


Marvel's Avengers One Shots & Drabbles

by jeweledleaves



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: A/B/O, Anal, BAMF T'Challa (Marvel), Concubinage, Cuddling, Drinking, Dubious Historical Accuracy, Elevator Sex, Evil! Au, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gen, Hydra, I have no shame, I love one shots, I will write Smut, Jealousy, Kidnapping, Light Bondage, Marvel Universe, Mildly Dubious Consent, Modern AU, More Sex, More tags as I progress, Multi, Partying, Please feel free to make requests, Praise, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pregnancy, Scary palace sex, Sex Toys, Smut, Soulmate AU, Stockholm Syndrome, The Big Reveal, avengers bonding, bookstore, flower shop, gratuitous use of 1940s lingo, gratuitous use of musical references, happy birthday steve rogers, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-07-19 02:03:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 36,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7340185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeweledleaves/pseuds/jeweledleaves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of one shots and drabbles. I DO write requests, prompts, etc. I just love Marvel, y'all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Next Time (Steve Rogers)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You would wait for Steve Rogers a lifetime, if it meant you got to be with him.

Steve had been gone two weeks. Two long weeks. Two long weeks of you languishing around your apartment, waiting for him to come home to you. Well his apartment.

You had never had the courage to tell him that when he was gone on long missions, you took to sleeping in his apartment, living there basically, assuming you yourself weren’t gone for work.

You and Steve had been ‘going steady’ for almost seven months now. It was a thought that sort of blew your mind. You had met Captain Rogers almost two years ago, when the battle of New York had brought Shield agents and the gang now calling themselves the Avengers closer together.

Shortly after you had gotten up the gumption to ask him out for a cup of coffee, which had all led up to this moment, lying in his bed, waiting in anticipation for his return.

You knew he’d be back soon, he was supposed to be back this evening, and evening had come and gone. The anxiety had started to build, but one well-placed call to Stark tower –you worked for Shield for goodness sake you weren’t about to jump to conclusions- had eased your worries. His flight home with Natasha had experienced weather difficulties, they were behind-

A sound made your ears prick, the opening of the front door. You smiled softly when you heard his soft groan, the sound of his shield hitting the ground. You quickly hopped up out of bed, your previous plan to seduce him flying out the window.

Steve was home!

You bolted out of his bedroom, barely taking a moment to glance him over for major injuries before flinging yourself at him.

“Stevie!” You called, relief evident in your voice as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his broad chest. You weren’t sure why, but every time he returned safely you couldn’t help the prickle of tears in your eyes which were promptly wiped away by his strong hands.

“Hey doll” he sounded so relieved, his hands on your face, pulling you into a soft kiss.

You always marveled at Steve’s kisses, just hard enough, his soft lips sent chills of pleasure down your spine. He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours and you smiled standing on your tiptoes to press your lips to his again.

“I’ve missed you.” Your voice barely a whisper as you led him to his room. He was still in the suit and you knew for a fact that what he needed was a nice hot shower and some sleep.

He quickly undid his helmet, letting it fall to the ground near his bed as you began to help him out of his costume – You hoped he would never find out you called it a costume when he wasn’t around –

You checked him again for injuries, noting, with a frown, that he had several large bruises on his torso and a gash on his left pectoral.

“Steven Grant Rogers, did you come here without stopping at the infirmary?” You asked, secretly thrilled at his eagerness to see you, but also displeased at his lack of care for his health.

He blushed, looking away from you, you could see in his eyes the tiny young man that had never left the large frame of your Captain in the way he disregarded his own safety.

“I figured my best girl could patch me up just as well as any doctor.” He began, knowing just now to wheedle his way into your heart. His hand brushed your cheek as he turned to look at you with his earnest blue eyes. “I _needed_ to see you.” You could feel your own face heat up.

“I’ll forgive you this time, Rogers, but you need to take care of yourself.” You chided, pressing your lips softly on one particularly nasty bruise, being sure to just brush across it so as not to cause pain. He looked at you with an adoration that made your heart flutter.

You two had yet to exchange ‘I love you’s’ although it couldn’t have been more clear to you that you loved him. Every piece of him, especially his heart.

You two also had yet to “get to know one another biblically” as your grandmother would have put it. Hence the lounging in his bed, waiting for his inevitable return in only your underwear and your favorite sleep shirt – imprinted with a picture of his shield, of course -

You were waiting until he felt more comfortable, as long as it took, for both, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t encourage him. You sighed softly, as he cast the suit onto the floor, leaving him in a pair of briefs that were sinfully tight. You looked away, tapping him lightly on the shoulder.

“Let’s disinfect this” You walked over to his bedside table, removing the antiseptic and a cotton ball from the drawer. He followed you, sitting on the bed as you began to clean his wound.

“You know I was injected with a super soldier serum” He began his usual spill as his winced.

“Super Soldiers can still get infections, no matter how quickly they heal.” You smiled at him, your smile widening as he captured your lips with his own, his hands finding their way to your hips.

You pulled away, wrinkling your noise at him. “Shower, mister.”

He chuckled, a soft noise that made your insides clench, before kissing you on the forehead.

“Yes ma’am.” He walked off, leaving you, grinning like an idiot, to pick up his mess.

You settled yourself back into bed after picking up, being sure to put the Cap’s suit in the bag of ‘dry clean’ to take to Tony’s tomorrow, Stark made sure to have all the uniforms special laundered at his residence, something you couldn’t help but be glad over. The thought of trying to wash his suit, or better yet, the reaction from taking it to the dry cleaners, was enough to make you giggle to yourself softly, tugging the covers closer to your body.

You giggle again when you feel the slightly damp body of your super boyfriend slide under the covers with you. You turn to face him, humming softly as he draws his body close to your own, as he kisses you again.

You can see his exhaustion apparent on his face, and the way his eyes keep drooping closed. You smile softly, kissing his cheek.

“Captain, I think it is time for bed.” He snuggles his face into your neck, mumbling a quiet no. You thread your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp. It isn’t long before you hear his breathing even out, before he is sound asleep.

You yawn softly, intent on joining him in rest, the last thought flittering through your mind.

“I love you Steve.” You whisper softly.

_Next time._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like this one, this one will probably have a smutty sequel.


	2. Movie Night (Bucky Barnes)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neither could believe they were finally kissing each other.  
> "Tell me again why we haven't done this before?"

Bucky

Movie night at the tower had been your favorite night of the week back before everything had fallen apart.

Maybe that is why Steve still insisted on keeping it up, in the apartment he shared with Bucky, once a week with what was left of Team Cap, plus Natasha of course.

Even now with Wanda and Sam gone for a few days, he still made sure to pick a film, and gather everyone left together.

It made you glad, gave you hope that you could all still be a family.

You sat down, silently watching the two men in front of you. Steve was animatedly chatting about some modern invention or another and Bucky was watching, a grin on his face.

Bucky grinning.

You almost couldn’t believe it.

Months, for months you had waited for a smile to appear on Bucky Barnes’ face, and now you were sitting here on the couch watching him with Steve, and it was awe inspiring.

You smiled softly to yourself, a pink blush appearing on your face when Bucky glanced your way.

Your action did not go unnoticed by the other two people in the room, Natasha and Steve, who shared a knowing glance between them. When you heard the microwave beep you hopped up, going to grab the popcorn so the movie could start. Unfortunately for you as you walked past Natasha she stuck out her foot, not that you saw her, and you tripped, a strangled yelp leaving your throat as you tumbled to the ground.

You never made it there.

When you opened your eyes, shocked that you hadn’t face planted, you were aware of the strong arms, both flesh and metal, of a certain super soldier keeping you from the ground.

“Applesauce, doll! That was a close one.” Bucky chuckled, pulling you up, inadvertently placing you into his lap. “You okay?”

Oh you were more than okay. You blinked, feeling the fire creep onto your face, and it wasn’t hard to see the red tint on Bucky’s own cheeks. Had you embarrassed him? Oh you were an idiot, and a klutz, apparently, but it didn’t matter, his hands rested so perfectly on your hips and you could barely think straight.

“Oh yeah, Buck, I’m fine.” You smiled, trying to contain the nervous energy you knew was coming off of you in waves. Suddenly he seemed to notice the position you were in, released your hips like they were fire, anxiety evident on his features.

You jumped up, horrified at your lack of caring. Who even knew how Bucky felt about physical contact! What if you had broken some awful taboo?

“Er...Popcorn. I- I uh…I have to go get the popcorn” You stuttered, fleeing to the kitchen.

Natasha caught Steve’s eye again, a frustrated look passed between them. This would be harder than they had thought.

____________

“You sure about this Steve?” Bucky glanced at his best friend, brows furrowed. “Leaving the two of us alone like this? You know I am stuck on her, what if…what if I lose it?” For once Steve doesn’t entertain that possibility, snorting at his friend’s antics.

“She seems to be carrying your torch so I wouldn’t worry about it too much, Buck.” Steve counters “and she didn’t exactly high-hat my suggestion to stay over. Nat and I will be gone for a weekend; we don’t want either of you to have to be alone.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean Steve?” Bucky looked alarmed at the prospect. “Do you think I need a babysitter?”

“No, I think you like this dame, and I’m trying to help you make a move.”

“This isn’t the 1940’s! I’m not the same person as before.” Bucky sounded exasperated.

“You’re right. If this was you’d have already made a move. Now I am here to do the right thing, she already likes you, don’t let this one slide by you Buck.”

“Punk.”

“Jerk.”

________

It was movie night, you sat, snuggled into the couch in the living room Bucky and Steve shared.

Bucky was sitting next to you, a solid middle cushion dividing you.

Today you had decided on an oldie, Gone with the Wind. Bucky had stared at you incredulously when you had told him.

“Seriously doll, I can remember when that came out.” You grinned back at him, reaching out to bop his shoulder playfully.

“Exactly old man, did you manage to see it in theaters?”

“My sister made me go, yeah, Clark Gable was all the rage with the dames back in the day.”

“Oh so you didn’t enjoy the sultry stylings of Vivian Leigh as Scarlett?”

“I was more of a Melanie man myself.” He smirked, catching you off guard. You tried to brush off how warm he made your insides feel.

“What about you, are you more of a Melanie or a Scarlett?” The question seemed strange coming from his mouth, so you quirked him a smile. “A Melanie.” A new glint appeared in his eyes, and it made your stomach clench. You quickly started the film.

“Well then let’s take a trip down memory lane.”

Gone with the Wind was a long movie, you realized halfway through, yawning thoughtfully. Bucky had migrated closer to you as it had progressed, and now sat with his arm loosely draped over your shoulder, leaving you the very inviting option of snuggling into his chest.

Again, for better or worse, you were a klutz, turning your head at the exact time he did, pressing your lips against his. You both sat there for a moment, not moving.

You were mortified.

You pulled away, knowing your blush had to be a vivid shade of red, but before you could start tumbling out your apologies you caught Bucky’s eyes, their clear and pure blue masked by his dilated pupils.

You managed a squeaked. “Sorry, Bu-“before he interrupted you.

“Frankly my dear I don’t give a damn.” He pressed his lips against yours again, this time the awkwardness faded rapidly, as your arms found their way around his neck. When he pulled away you sighed in appreciation. You couldn’t believe he was finally kissing you, and it was so perfect.

“Why haven’t we done that before, doll?” Bucky asked, his voice husky. He planted a kiss onto your forehead, pulling you onto his lap, a mirror of last week’s shame episode.

“Well, Sergeant Barnes, I couldn’t tell you, but as god is my witness I’d gladly do it again.” You felt his hands tighten their grip around your waist, sending a thrill down your spine. The blush was still present on your cheeks, but you felt far more comfortable with Bucky than you had for some time.

“Sugar, are you rationed?” He asked, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. You blinked, a giggle leaving your throat.

“What was that, grandpa?” He growled softly at your comment, pressing a kiss against your jaw.

“Rationed, going steady, are you single?”

“Do you think I’d be kissing you if I wasn’t single Bucky?”

“Depends on if you wanna go steady with me, babe.” You froze, looking him straight in the eyes, his gaze was earnest. You could feel a fluttering in your chest. He was asking you to be his girlfriend.

“Oh yeah, Bucky. I’ll be rationed for you.” He kisses you again, taking the wind from your chest, nipping at your bottom lip as you gladly opened your mouth.

When he pulled away again you were panting and he was gazing at you like you were the most beautiful thing on Earth, like you were porcelain, infinitely breakable and precious. His regular hand brushed your cheek thoughtfully, as he pressed his forehead to yours.

“I’m glad to have you as my best girl.” At his comment a soft pleased sigh left your throat, the man was angelic. How could you have gotten so lucky? To be the one he chose after all that hardship.

“I couldn’t ask for a better best guy.” You responded a moment after, trailing your hands down each of his arms, grasping at his fingers, both flesh and metal, with your own, “You’re right, why haven’t we done this before?” He laughs again, leaning his face into the crook of your neck, allowing you to snuggle against him. Your eyes flutter closed as he began to place kisses on your exposed neck, soft at first, but quickly becoming firm with need. You couldn’t control the soft gasp that left your throat as he softly grazed your skin with his teeth.

“B-Bucky.” You half-moaned his name, your grip tightening on the front of his shirt.

He hoisted you up, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist as he settled his own under your thighs.

“W-Where are we going Buck?” You yelped, throwing your arms around his neck to keep from falling.

“Bedroom, doll.” His voice joyful, and you giggled at his exuberance, pressing your lips to his cheek. .

“mmmkay.” You mumble against his skin, as he fumbles with the door handle, when he finally got it open, he walked in, dropping you onto the bed. You land with an ‘oof’ bouncing lightly against the bed.

He looms above you, and you have to pause to marvel at his beauty. His defined face and those ice-blue eyes staring at you like you were the light of his life.

“Do you wanna do this, babe?” His arms were on either side of your face, and his hair formed a halo around his head.

“Y-Yes.” You managed, grabbing the front of his shirt and tugging him down to kiss you again.

He pulled away only to pull off his shirt, a motion you copied by removing your own. You couldn’t stop the soft moan that broke through your lips at the site of his bare chest. Bucky Barnes wasn’t hurting for anything. You bit your lip. He was way out of your league. You felt damn lucky.

He seemed entranced, trailing his warm hand down your stomach, watching the goosebumps break out on your skin.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” His sentence came out a breath, as his hands deftly unbuttoned your pants. He moved to pull them down, only to have you accidentally knee him in the forehead.

“Oh shit, James, I’m sorry!” You shot up, your pants flying to the ground, “Are you okay?” His hand was pressed against his face, and he was silent.

You had broken Bucky. You had broken Bucky in an attempt to have sex.

Then he was laughing, a deep belly laugh that rocked his whole body. He rolled off the bed, landing with a resounding thud on the floor. You leaned over the bed, trying to see if he was okay.

He was fine, and naked, stark naked. In the brief moment you had scrambled to the edge of the bed he had managed to strip.

He caught your eye and winked.

“I think you are wearing too many clothes, doll.” You reached up, immediately snapping your bra off and tossing it to the side.

“Whatever you say, Sergeant Barnes.” You fell back on to the bed, pleased as punch when he found his way on top of you again.

“What was that?”

“I said, whatever you say _, Sergeant Barnes_ ” You drawled his last name, a thrill running through you as his hands roamed your body. You sighed softly as his lips again found your neck, his hands trailing down to your underwear, he snapped the band, making you jump.

“Polka dots, nice touch.” Your response was a strangled gasp as he slipped his non-metal hand down, brushing against your clit. Your body was trembling already, unused to the touch of another person in that way.

Your hands trailed up his chest and you took special care to run your fingers softly up his scars, memorizing the landscape that brought him to you. You didn’t neglect a single space, not even where metal met skin.

“Jeez Buck, you’re beautiful.” A hitch in your breath as you brought your lips up to his shoulder, pressing them against the divide of metal and flesh. His metal arm, resting at your hip, gripped your skin tightly, as he resumed his ministrations on your clit. Your head fell back, an obscene noise falling from your throat.

The look on his face was something you would want to save forever, his blue eyes, and his kiss-bruised lips, with that messy hair. Like some noble sex god come to bestow upon you a blessing.

“Your perfect.” The words tumble out of his lips even as he moves a finger into you, the motion making you arch your back. He kisses your lips, your cheeks, your neck, your forehead, each one punctuated by a bit of praise, a reminder of your goodness, your beauty, your grace. Whispers of how he couldn’t understand why you of all the people would want him in his brokenness. Your heart broke and was born again under the attentions of Bucky Barnes, his attentions to every piece of you soon bringing you to a precipice.

He removed his hand, grinning at your soft whine.

“Shh, doll. I’ll go back to making you feel good in just a sec.” He reached over to his bedside table, pulling a condom out and tearing it open. You raised an eyebrow.

“Need those often?”

“You’re the first, gorgeous.” He slid it down his length, ready and at attention, in one fluid motion.

“You sure you ready for all this?” Bucky looked at you with a gleam in his eye. You rolled your eyes in return.

“Ravish me, Sergeant.” You let your legs spread as he removed the last of your clothing, taking a moment to marvel at your arousal.

“You that excited for me, baby? I’m going to make you feel so good.” Something about his awkward dirty talk, if it could even qualify, was so endearing. He lined himself up with your entrance, moving in one gesture, stopping for a moment to relish the feeling. You mewled at the contact, pressing yourself closer to him.

“You are a dream” He continued his praise. You were pretty sure you were the luckiest ‘dame’ Bucky had ever come in contact with at this point. He moved with purpose, angling this way and that, trying to find the perfect position. When he hit it your mouth fell open and a sharp noise of pleasure left your throat. He smirked.

“70 years and I’m not as rusty as I thought.”

“Keep talking old man and I’ll fall asleep” You countered, as he increased his pace, this time letting his metal arm snake down, the cold touch of his fingers on your clit making you gasp. His attentions were certainly getting the job done.

You were so close.

“B-Bucky, I’m gunna-“ You gasped, he responded with a kiss.

“Just hold out a little longer, doll. ‘m so close too.” He moved harder, making you clutch at the bedsheets.

“I-I can’t Bucky, I-“ You let go, the tight coil in your stomach releasing itself and dragging him with it. He groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck and curling his body over yourself with a groan.

You both laid there for a moment, catching your breath.

“Wow” You panted, brushing the sweat slicked hair out of his face. He nodded, nuzzling your hand, before gingerly pulling out and going to dispose of the condom. When he came back, he had a rag. Which he promptly used to clean you up.

“Aftercare is a nice touch.” You whispered against his skin when he returned to his place in the bed.

“Anything for my best girl.” His arms were wrapped protectively around your waist, and he pulled you closer to him.

“Tell me again why we haven’t done this before" You entwine your hands with his, tangling your legs together.

He only laughs, the laugh soon turning into a yawn as you both drift off to sleep.

\--------

When Steve and Natasha returned that night the living room was empty, the movie long since over.

After a bit of snooping Nat pulled Steve over, making him lean into Bucky’s room, where you and the former Winter soldier were curled against one another.

“Well damn, Rogers, it worked.”

Steve could only grin.

After all those years he got to return the favor, he got to be the wingman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A glossary on fun 1940's terms used today!
> 
> Applesauce: an expletive, like shouting “darn”
> 
> Stuck On - Having a crush on.
> 
> Carry a Torch - To have a crush on someone
> 
> High-Hat - To snub.
> 
> Are you rationed? – Are you taken?
> 
> Frankly my dear I don’t give a damn – A quote from “Gone with the Wind”
> 
> As god as my witness….: Also a quote from “Gone with the Wind”
> 
> This was for Totheendsoftheearth! I hope you enjoy. I got a little carried away with dialogue, but Bucky is so fun to write!
> 
> Remember guys, feel free to comment and use the comments to request! <3


	3. Dancing (T'Challa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A silly moment turns into something more with the addition of the new King of Wakanda.
> 
> Prompt: " T'Challa walking in one the reader doing something hilarious, like dancing or singing"

Wakanda was a good place- no, scratch that, it was a great place. This was something you decided early on in your stay. It didn’t take much for you to get acclimated to the environment, everything was so beautiful, not to mention the fact that you got presence of your friends without having to worry about being arrested.

Wakanda provided a perfect place to act as a refuge for the Avengers that had defied the Sokovia accords, you included.

In fact, you couldn’t stop gushing about the actions of the newly crowned king, T’Challa. He would have been amazing already, the fact that he was able to admit his mistake with Bucky and offer you all a refuge was enough for you to be ready to open your heart to the young king.

But to top it all off, being in Wakanda meant that you got to see the man at work. It was something else. T’Challa wore the mantle of king well, the care and wisdom he exhibited as a ruler often left you in awe. He was also acting as the protector of his realm as the Black Panther, something you had seen in action. That ancestral duty seemed to weigh on him at times, the burden of kingship plus the title of protector often coming into clash with one another. Yet, you had never seen him lash out, he remained perfectly contained, always, a harbinger of justice.

Sometimes you wished you could see him let loose, but from what you had heard, his father’s death had drained him of his spirited ways, leaving a stern and dutiful man behind.

You however, were harder to contain than him.

Which is why you were currently bouncing on the bed in the room he had allotted you, singing old 90’s songs and shaking your hips. You knew you looked like a fool, but you and the rest of the team had been cooped up in the castle for weeks now, not that you minded, and that meant that you had quite a bit of restless energy to get rid of. Restless energy that was usually drained through fighting. What better way to do that than to jump and dance your heart out?

So you threw your head back, undulating your body this way and that, no real purposeful movement. You were just dancing to dance. You laughed to yourself, you hadn't felt this good in a while.

Unfortunately for you, you didn’t hear the door open. Nor did you notice the presence of the regal man behind you. It wasn’t until you heard his low chuckle and your name fall from his lips that you realized that you weren’t alone at all. You stumbled, falling onto the bed with a soft ‘oomph’, before scrambling up in an effort to redeem yourself.

“Y-Your highness” You squeaked, coming face to face with T’Challa himself. There was a clear look of mirth on his face, his normally serious facade holding an amused smirk.

“What is it that you are doing?” He asked, his smooth voice making you blush. Right. What was it you were doing again?

“U-Uhm. I was…I am…dancing?” You finally come up with the word, rubbing the back of your head sheepishly. “And also jumping on the bed, sorry.”

“That is fine, I do not think the bed will come to much harm that way.” He extended a hand to you, which you took with much trepidation, allowing him to hoist you up. “Although if that is what you call dancing, I worry for you Americans.” You laugh at his comment.

“I’m sorry, your highness, we are a brutish people.” He chuckled again.

“You may call me T’Challa, we are in your private quarters, I doubt anyone is listening.” You smiled to yourself at his break from formality.

“So yo- T’Challa, I take it you didn't appreciate my dancing skills?"

"I'm afraid I couldn't quite understand your movements." His eyes sparkled in amusement and you could feel the grin on your face.

"What brought you here today, if it wasn't to see my sub-par dance moves?"

“Perhaps I had something to discuss about your powers, but I have a new objective now.” One of his hands found your waist, and the other entwined itself with one of your hands.

You were blushing scarlet.

“What is that new objective?” You questioned, allowing him to guide your body.

“To teach you how to actually dance, instead of whatever you were just doing.” It was your turn to laugh.

“I don’t think I am in any position to turn down my king.” You felt his hand tighten on your waist at your words, you caught his eyes, hoping you weren’t in trouble. His strong gaze held your own, there was no anger there, just something else that made you tremble.

“Come, you move your feet like this.”

You had never enjoyed dancing this much before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love T'Challa, and Chadwick Boseman is a beautiful man.
> 
> This was for CUPCAKEQUEEN, hope you enjoy!


	4. The Rulers (T'Challa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wakanda's King was blessed to have a wonderful Queen.
> 
> Prompt: "The avengers meet T'Challa and his queen"

Steve was surprised at the fact King T’Challa was married. Perhaps because of the newly crowned king’s age, or maybe more so because of his demeanor. He hadn’t seemed like someone attached. However, he was.

Now standing in front of the royal couple, it was easy to see their chemistry.

He turned to Wanda, giving her a reassuring nod before doing the same to Bucky.

Wakanda had opened its arms to the former Avengers who had supported him and defied the accords, something he couldn’t help but be grateful for.

He was also starting to suspect that the Queen had played a role in T’Challa’s clemency. She was sitting, only slightly lower than her husband, regally reclining in her seat. Her eyes were warm and kind, but also bespoke of an inner iron, something that her husband shared.

He had only heard her speak a few times, but her voice was low and melodious, something befitting the stunning land she now helped govern.

She leaned over, murmuring something into the ear of her spouse, a slight smile playing on her lips.

She was beautiful, they panted a striking picture.

The King’s hand rested firmly on her own, and from where Steve was standing it was clear that their fingers were entwined.

They seemed to be perfectly in sync. When T’Challa responded to her whispered words, she tossed her head back and laughed, revealing her lovely voice again.

“Behave yourself, my king.” Her tone was almost dripping in affection. The royal couple was close.

A phrase he had once heard Natasha utter suddenly flittered through his mind. _Power couple_.

Yes, that is what he would have called them.

_______

These Avengers were an odd group, you decided, watching them carefully from your seat next to your husband.

Their leader, Captain Rogers, was competent, you decided, if not a little stubborn. Next to him, the two dangerous ones; Wanda Maximoff and Sergeant Barnes, they seemed wary of their surroundings, no surprise after what they had been through. You felt the tug at your heart strings. Behind them, the men known as Hawkeye, Falcon, and Ant-man lounged.

You had learned enough of their background to know that Hawkeye and Ant-man both had families. You leaned over to whisper to your husband a reminder to begin the process of reunification so that they could be with them once again. Your king grasped your hand in response, squeezing it softly, whispering to you that the only family you needed to worry yourself with at this moment was your own.

Your hand reached to your stomach as a reflex, and you laughed at him. His growing love for the child who would be his heir was obvious, but it was still a secret.

In the corner was the Black widow, Natasha Romanova, you saw her glance at Captain Rogers several times. There was unresolved tension, something your husband had explained to you already.

You had been a warrior too, once. You understood the intricacies of battle, and of friendship.

And yet...

They seemed a sad lot.

You had already explained to your husband your support of allowing them to stay, perhaps they were dangerous, but the world had turned against them in a cruel search for power, Wakanda was not the world.

Wakanda was better than the world.

T’Challa finally turned to address his audience of Avengers.

You had never been more proud to wear the mantle of Queen next to the man you loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't say enough about how much I love the marvel men, and T'Challa is no exception.
> 
> I just know he is a great king, you know?
> 
> This chapter is for Tastethewind, hope you like it!


	5. The Boy in the Flower Shop (Pre-Serum Steve, Modern AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That Steve Rogers had to be the prettiest flower in that entire shop, and you had to have him.
> 
> Prompt: Person A owns a flower shop and person B comes storming in one day, slaps 20 bucks on the counter and says “How do I passive-aggressively say fuck you in flower?” (Pre-Serum Steve, Modern AU)

Today was shaping up to be one of the worst days of your life.

First, you had woken up after your alarm, meaning you had to rush into work, getting there just in time to receive a lecture from your boss on ‘time management skills’. Then the girl who was supposed to relieve you called in sick, and your boss decided you would be the best fill in, meaning you had to work a double shift.

When you finally made it home, you burned the popcorn you made, and stubbed your toe on the doorstop.

To add insult to injury, your boss decided to inform you that you’d be working a double shift again tomorrow because it would ‘help you develop important skills’. You worked in a vet’s office! What skills was it going to give you that you already didn’t have?

You could take care of animals. This was just a summer job, after all.

Her smug tone on the phone had been the last straw.

You were so done.

You repeated that to yourself as you stalked out of your apartment, walking the block to the florist’s shop you saw daily during your afternoon jog. This time you didn’t run past it, you walked in, radiating fury.

Your eyes met the bright blue of the cashier’s. He was a slight young man, about your own age, slender and only a little taller than you. He had been sketching some of the display flowers when you walked in. You noted he had artist’s fingers.

“Can I help you, miss?” His voice is surprisingly deep, and it almost makes you forget why you came.

But not for long.

You stomp over to the register, storming your way to the front, paying no head to the alarmed look on his face, and you slap 20 bucks on the counter.

“How do I passive-aggressively say fuck you in flower?” The worlds just fall off your lips, his mouth opens slightly, and he licks his lips, a smile on his face.

“There are lots of ways, ma’am. But I’m being rude, my name is Steve Rogers, I am one of the new workers.” You took the hand he extended you and shook it.

“You don’t have to call me ma’am, we’re the same age.” You smile, giving him your name, he nods, pulling you back to the matter at hand.

“Okay, Steve, let me tell you, I’m giving this to my boss.” You launch into a narrative about all you’ve been through in the last six months of work, yet he never interrupted you, he seemed to be watching you with rapt interest, taking notes as you emptied yourself of fury.

“Well we have a lot to work with, miss.” He smiles again, and you can’t help but blush at his sweet face. The flower boy was cute, almost ethereal in his dainty frailness, somehow matching perfectly with the heady scent of fresh flowers-

Dammit you were getting distracted.

“Right so what is the plan?” You leaned against the counter, smiling mischievously at him. “You look like a man with a plan” You grinned when he flushed, deciding that the red looked good on his cheeks, especially when you put it there.

“Well, she seems pretty useless, so meadowsweet, definitely.” You watched him wander around the shop, picking things up as he went. “Yellow carnations, because she’s disappointed you with her behavior, foxglove because this is a very insincere bouquet.” You snorted.

“You can say that again, Rogers.”

“I think we can top it off with some Orange lilies, for hatred.” He walked over to the empty vase sitting on the counter, carefully cutting the flowers. You stood there, biting your lip, watching what he was doing with interest.

“How do you know all those flower meanings off the top of your head?” The question slips out of your mouth, you are barely aware that you said it.

“Oh, uh, I’m majoring in art.” The answer seems nonsensical. You blink. “Wait, that didn’t answer your question did it? I draw a lot of flowers, it seemed important to know their meaning, you know? To make what I draw more meaningful. Plus it really helped me get this job.” Ah, that made sense. “What about you, what do you do, besides this Vet office work?”

“I’m a political science and history major, pre-law.” Steve drew in a breath.

“Wow, that is pretty intense.”

“It is enjoyable though, it’s what I love.”

“That is usually what people say when they are art majors.” Steve grins at you, his self-deprecating humor making you laugh.

“Fair, but I get strange looks sometimes, can’t help my ambitious streak.” You decided you liked Steve, the florist art major, quite a bit.

“Your arrangement is done, doll.” The pet-name left his mouth so easily, he seemed unperturbed, but it made your heart beat fast.

“Ah thank you Steve!” He was still next to you, so you reached out and wrapped your arms around his waist, kissing his cheek. “They are beautiful, and passive aggressive.” He was red again, stuttering a ‘you’re welcome” as he returned to his spot behind the counter.

You paid, leaving him a generous tip, with a wink, even as he protested that your time had been enough and he’d cover it.

“Just remember me when you are a famous artist, love.” You responded, carrying your flowers out the door.

You wanted to see him again.

______________________

You waited, well you had to wait, because the next three times you jogged past the flower shop, someone who wasn’t your Steve was there, but the fourth time, there he was. You stepped in, hoping he didn’t think you were a creep.

“Hi Steve.” You smiled brightly from the doorway, he looked up, a soft smile on his face.

“Hey doll.” There it was again. “How’d the flowers go over?”

“Great, they are still on her desk, I get to see them every day, it is perfect.”

“What brings you here, today?” he idly closed his sketchbook, just as you saw the outline of a woman. Your heart tore a little as you wondered who he was sketching.

“Well I need your flower help, of course, if you are willing to give it to me.”

“Please, anything.”

“What type of flower do you give someone if you want them to go on a date with you?”

“Oh uh…well. I don’t really know what would work, I’ve never uh.”

“Hm?” You leaned a little closer to him on the counter, your heart beating.

“I’ve never had a serious… uh-“

“You’re single?” You prompted, enjoying the soft pink on his face.

“Y-yeah.”

“Well I don’t think it changes your knowledge of flowers, if you were asking someone out, what would you do?”

“Well if I was asking out a girl to get her to date me…” He trailed off. You nodded.

“Yeah?”

“Pink roses” He stepped out from behind the counter, picking up one of the delicate flowers. “For admiration.”

“Not red?”

“No Red is passionate love, if I’m asking someone out, we aren’t there yet.”

“Fair.” You giggled, as he shot you a look.

“Apple blossoms and ivy, for a promise of fidelity. “He hummed to himself. “Finally, in my case, lilac, for first love.” There it was, a lovely bouquet, tied off with ribbon. It was beautiful. You let out a soft sigh. The soft pinks and purples melted your own heart.

“Oh Stevie, it’s beautiful.” You let him pass it to you, holding it in your hands like it was gold.

“I hope whoever you give it to appreciates as much as you clearly do.” He smiled at you, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“How much?”

“None, this time. They are small, no one will notice they’re gone.”

Now was the moment. Now you had to ask him.

“Oh Steve.” You looked him right in the eye. “I am just worried they won’t say yes.”

“I’m sure they will, doll.” Now or never. You thrust the flowers into his hands, noting the surprise on his face.

“Will you go out with me Steve Rogers?”

There was silence. He looked at the flowers in shock. He wasn’t looking at you. Your face heated up, shit. You had made a mistake. Who were you to ask this guy out? Just some silly girl, infatuated with a boy in a flower shop.

Still silence. You needed to leave, right now. You needed to walk out and change your jogging route and never ever show your face here again.

Maybe even move states.

“I- I…uhm.’ You stuttered, turning on your heels. “I gotta go.” Before you could reach the door, he tugged on your hand, you stopped, turning to look at him. You couldn’t deny the sheen of tears in your eyes. Rejection didn’t feel good.

“Y-yes, of course. Don’t go, I’ll go out with you.” The words were tumbling out of his mouth, you froze. “Oh God, you’re crying? Don’t cry, I’m such an idiot, I didn’t know what to do, I would have never thought a girl _like you_ would ever ask me-“ You cut him off, pressing your lips to his, the bouquet of flowers resting in his hands between the two of you.

“What time do you get off of work.” You asked against his lips after you broke the kiss. His face was on fire, your own held a blush. The kiss was magical, his lips were soft and cool and everything you had imagined and more.

“30 minutes.”

“Cup of coffee after?”

“Only if you let me buy it.” He pauses, an unsure look on his face. “Can I kiss you again?”

“I’m counting on it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pre-Serum! Steve Rogers is an angel baby. So is post-serum Steve. Steve is an Angel baby. I love Steve Rogers.
> 
> Happy Almost Birthday Cap!
> 
> Still taking requests.


	6. The Palace Visit (Evil!T'Challa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, this was interesting to write. I decided that if the Avengers were evil, so was SHIELD, which of course made HYDRA the good guys. 
> 
> Prompt: Can you do one where all the Avengers are evil and the reader get invited to the evil Black Panther's creepy palace? Smut would not be a bad idea for this.

When you received the invitation you couldn’t help the shudder that rolled up your spine.

T’Challa, King of Wakanda, the Black Panther, the newest addition to the Avengers.

You sat down, the soft parchment slipping through your fingers, flittering to the floor. You quickly closed the blinds to your small bedroom, your hands shaking.

The Avengers were evil. An organization of ‘heroes gone wrong’ so to speak. You had seen them, besieging New York, destroying the Hydra base in Washington (the base that YOU had been interning at) first in the name of SHIELD, that dastardly organization that had plagued HYDRA for years, and then on their own. Buyable mercenaries, sold to the highest bidder.

They had found that bidder in the newest King of Wakanda, a man of limitless wealth and resources. King T’Challa.

A man who had invited you to his palace. 7 p.m. tonight.

You were staying in a small hostel in the capital of Wakanda, the outside reason being foreign aid, the actual reason being…Hydra.

You were trying to establish some semblance of a Hydra base, something to allow your organization to bring freedom to the people of this nation. Perhaps even, to topple the regime that King T’Challa had set up.

Yet, as you glanced down at the fallen card, the parchment as dark as night with silver ink that swirled in the darkness, you wanted to go. Wanted to see him again.

The first time, when you were being introduced, he was so regal. Newly crowned and exuding power. You had seen him several times since then, visiting the hospitals, meeting his citizens, maintaining control. He had spoken to you ever time, his smooth tone always setting you on edge.

There was something about him.

If you hadn’t had personal knowledge of his actual nature you wouldn’t have been able to guess it at all.

You quickly walked to your closet.

If you were going to go and put your life and mission at risk, you’d look good doing it.

_________

The giant stone panthers were intimidating, that was your first thought. You were standing outside of the Wakandan National Palace, simultaneously in awe and terrified. It was flanked by two panther statues, both large enough to dwarf the buildings next to them. The lush jungle creating a dark atmosphere that made the stone guardians take on a foreboding nature.

You were ushered in, revealing the equally dark interior. Furs decorated the marble floors, tapestries covered the stone walls. You shuddered when you noticed the subject of the tapestries; battles, cold blooded murder, and one in particular of a woman, clearly being hunted by men in the distance.

You hoped it wasn’t some sort of allegorical placement on the part of your host. You let yourself be led into a private sitting room, where you were instructed to take a seat by a fierce looking woman who promptly left the room.

You were alone, or so you thought.

A firm hand ran its way over your shoulder, making you stiffen and turn.

“Y-Your Highness.” You stutter, cursing yourself for getting too comfortable. He had obviously been there the entire time, watching you. His dark eyes gleamed in the dim lighting, he looked like a predator.

Which made you the prey.

“It was good of you to join me; I was not sure you would accept my invitation on such _short_ notice.”

“I wouldn’t dream of not accepting an invitation from you, Your Highness. It is an honor.” You try your best to keep your tone as neutral as possible, watching him take his seat across from you, his movements as fluid and graceful as the panther he represented.

“As honorable as it is for you to try to infiltrate my country?” You froze, your blood turning to ice.

“I’m not quite sure I understand, your highness.” You weren’t sure you could talk you way out of this, but damn if you wouldn’t try.

“Do not worry, kitten, I will not punish you” His words came out almost like a purr, and hit you in a place you didn’t want to acknowledge. “Yet.” His hand reached out, grabbing yours, tracing designs in your palm. “I have been watching you, you are very good at what you do, good enough for me to read your file.”

You had a feeling the infamous Black Widow, hydra agent turned traitor might have had a hand in that.

You tried to ignore the pleasurable sensation of his touch or your gut reaction to yank your hand away. This was diplomacy.

“What would that be, Your Highness?”

“Please, call me T’Challa.” He raised your hand up, pressing his warm lips against your hand, goosebumps trailed down your arm in response. “especially since I believe we will be getting to know one another very well.”

“O-Okay, T’Challa, what would that be, then?”

“I want you to spy on Hydra for me.” The words fall easily from his lips, provoking a sharp gasp from you. “Not everywhere, only here, where I can keep an _eye_ on you. Although I’m sure you would make a fine addition to my team of Avengers, I think I would prefer to keep you _close_ to me.” He had moved his chair, he was so close to you that you could feel his breath tickling the base of your neck, one of his arms still held your hand and the other was draped over your shoulder, pulling you ever closer.

You felt like a fire had ignited inside of you. You wanted nothing more than to run out of the room, nothing more than to kiss him till your lungs ached and your lips were bruised. Instead you sat there, trying to keep your breath steady.

“And if I refuse?”

“You already know the price for that”

You angled your head knowing you were about to make a mistake; you were about to ruin your life.

“I suppose I’ll have to agree to your terms, then.” The man smiled, a feline gleam in his eyes, even as your entire life fell apart.

“Good girl.” He pressed your arm, the pressure making you press your legs together, a gesture he did not miss. You tilted your head up, catching his eyes, looking at him with a sort of defiance that hadn’t matched your words. You were goading him, he took the bait, pressing his lips against your own in a burning kiss.

You were kissing the King of Wakanda.

It was remarkable the ease in which he picked you up, carrying you through the door you hadn’t come in through, and tossing you down onto an opulent bed.

Oh, it had been his personal meeting room, then?

You dug your fingers into his shoulders as he broke the kiss and began to trail the same brutal kisses down your neck; hot, precise kisses that made you moan, that made you weak. Your own arms moved so that your hands rested on his clothed chest, pressing against his firm muscles.

How had you ended up like this again?

He made quick work of your dress, and you allowed him too, tugging up off of your body in one fluid motion, revealing your very uncovered chest. You reached out to remove his shirt, marveling at his perfect skin, mouthwateringly soft.

“Ah, you are more beautiful than you let on, kitten.” His voice is a whisper against your ear, it makes you arch your body against his, which only serves to illicit a laugh from his mouth. “And very eager.” Yes, you were doing this. His hands traveled down your form, taking care to brush against your already sensitive nipples. “Eager for your king?”

“Y-Yes your highness.” Your breath hitched as he brushed against your underwear, a barrage of feelings making your body tingle.

“T’Challa-“ You had something to say, but-

“Shhh.” He silenced you so quickly, settling himself between your legs after disposing of your underwear. You were completely bare to him, yet not embarrassed. If he planned on using you this way, perhaps you had made the right choice.

His thumb brushed your clit, making a soft whine leave your throat. You could see the bulge in his pants, and it excited you almost as much as his touch. He tsked his tongue. “For a good girl, you are a naughty creature.” That only served to arouse you more, something he also took note of.

“T’Challa, please.” You unashamedly begged. You needed something, his touch, his manhood. Something. He complied, unbuttoning his pants, pulling out his rock hard member.

“Birth control?”

“Hydra issued.” You replied automatically, understanding the diplomatic incident that would occur of the crowned king conceived a child with a foreigner out of wedlock.

He eased into you with a surprising gentleness for someone who had spent a good portion of the night threatening you, hooking one of your legs over his broad shoulder. You moaned, finding it hard to breath as he began pumping into you at a serious pace. His name, his title, they tumbled out of your lips as he moved his thumb back to your clit, providing you with much needed stimulation. You raked your fingernails down his back, enjoying the moaned hiss that left his own lips.

“H-Harder.” You choked out, gratified instantly as he increased his brutal pace. You almost couldn’t think straight.

It was almost funny; he was fucking you senseless.

He sunk his teeth into your neck, seeming to relish your pained cry and the way it made you grip him tighter. He was amazing, and you were close.

You were moaning his name like a prayer, a prayer to the ancient deities governed and protected this land, a prayer to him, for him. He responded in soft noises, quiet moans, it seemed that he was just as reserved in bed as in life.

He grunted, as you gasped, your climax hitting you unexpectedly, you held onto him like he was a lifeline. The only thing that would save you.

He continued pounding into you, until reaching his release a moment later. His stamina was off the charts. Yet you could feel your body tingling from it. It was life changing.

He rolled off of you, letting you pant for a moment.

“Your highness…” You trailed off for a moment. “Would you prefer if I left?”

“Ah, no kitten, I have decided that you will be my pet.” He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear. “You will stay here.” He pulled you into his chest, and you complied almost completely willingly, snuggling against his chest.

Perhaps being an Avenger wasn’t the worst thing that could happen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Evil!T'Challa. Still just as beautiful as Good!T'Challa. 
> 
> This is for CUPCAKEQUEEN, hope you like it!


	7. Happy Birthday, Mr. Rogers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> July 4th is Steve Rogers's birthday. So here is a Smut fic in his honor.

You bit the edge of your fingernail, anxiety burning up your insides. You had spent the afternoon watching Revolutionary war documentaries, baking cake, and decorating.

Today was the fourth of July, also known as American independence day, but mostly importantly your boyfriend’s birthday.

He’d been out, opting to spend the morning with his team, something you had been invited to, but had turned down -they knew why, you had to get ready for tonight. Of course they didn’t hold it against you much…they saw you almost every day anyway. – Something you had both agreed on. Tony had suggested a night out, culminating in watching fireworks from the Avengers Tower, but Steve had shrugged his shoulders, explaining that it just wouldn’t be possible. Both you and Tony had exchanged looks, unsure as to what the Captain had up his sleeve.

That alone definitely had you on the edge of your seat.

Now you were sitting down, having a minor panic attack, your cake had burned, just a little, and you had iced it too quickly, so the icing was a little…melted.

You had attempted to make dinner, but realized you had forgotten the main ingredient -beef-, and Steve had taken the car, so you had no other choice but to order pizza. To top it all off, the outfit you had wanted to wear ended up covered in red icing, a casualty of the cake.

So now you were back in your Captain America themed pajamas, the best thing you could come up with.

At least your decorations came off without a hitch, as did your gift.

Maybe fireworks with Tony would have been a better idea.

You sighed as the commentator droned about the foundations of the American financial system, you normally loved a good historical documentary, but today you were too filled with worry to really enjoy it.

You were going to let him down.

Then suddenly, a thought.

You stood up, snatching a bow from your collection of crafts and attaching it to your hair. If all else failed, you would be the best gift you could be.

You didn’t have to wait long for Steve to open the door.

“Happy Birthday!” You cried, throwing your arms around his neck in the familiar pattern of him returning home to you. He clutched you tightly to himself, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I missed you today.” His voice was husky in your ear. You sighed contentedly into his touch.

“But if I would have gone to the tower, you would have missed all this lovely pizza and cake” You pulled away with a wink. “Can’t have that, hmm?” He smiled at you, his ‘America darling’ smile, as you had dubbed it, kissing you softly.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you here to take care of me, doll.” You blushed at his words, resting your head on his chest.

“I dunno, go hungry? Never have any decent smelling body wash?” He chuckled.

“Pizza and cake, babe. Let’s do it.”

___________

After dinner you pattered into the living room, dragging your boyfriend with you. “Time to open your gift, Stevie.” You used a singsong voice, pushing him lightly onto the couch before passing him the well wrapped box. You bit your lip, you had quite a bit of trouble determining a gift good enough for your basically perfect boyfriend, but damn if you didn’t try.

He undid the wrapping, taking care not to tear the paper, folding it back up he removed it. You smiled, probably a leftover habit from the depression era, when things like gift wrap would have been a luxury. As he opened the box you held your breath, watching his face, his look of concentration, his eyes widening as he looked at his gift.

“Is this a military uniform?”

“It’s YOUR military uniform, the greens at least.” You let out a breath. “I have a lot of connections what with Shield and all, it wasn’t hard to call in this little favor. But that isn’t all, keep looking.” It was all there, the uniform -hat and all-, an authentic poster for the Star Spangled man with a plan, that you had managed to win in a very heated auction, and a locket, the manliest locket you could find, with a picture of you and Steve. You had thought about a compass, but thought against it.

You watched as he went through it all, the excitement and wonder on his face, and when he opened his locket, the soft smile that danced on his lips.

“How’d you manage to do all this doll?” He looked like a kid on Christmas morning.

“I’m just that good.” He seemed to pause, glancing at you up and down.

“I think there is one more present I need to unwrap.” His voice was deeper, his eyes seemed darker, you felt a blush form on your face.

“What’s that?” Your voice was a breathy whisper as you let him draw your body to his, perching on his lap.

“You.” He reached his hand over, plucking the bow out of your hair and pressing his lips against yours. You responded immediately, pressing your body against his, moaning against his lips as his warm hands met the flesh of your stomach under your shirt. You own hands tangled in his soft blonde locks, relishing the little shudder he gave as you tugged on his hair. When he broke this kiss it was only so he could move his lips down, nipping at your neck with interest.

You sighed softly, placing your hands on his chest and pushing away.

“Bedroom, Stevie.” He looked hurt.

“But-“

“If you wanna unwrap this gift, we have to be in the bedroom, at least.” You ran your hands down your clothed body, grinning when he stood abruptly, tossing you over his shoulder.

“Yes ma’am.” Inside you were literally freaking out. This was it. Finally. Hell, maybe this could be your birthday present too.

He placed you on the bed gently, like you were breakable, and you stared up at his blue eyes, your heart beating in your throat. His gaze falters, and you can see his resolve begin to crack.

“Steve?” You question, not wanting to make him move to fast. “If you don’t wanna…its fine.”

“No, No.” His words leave his mouth quickly. “I do, I have, I mean. I’ve done it before, but…with you…I don’t want to mess this up, doll.” Oh your heart, it was almost bursting with adoration. “Steve Rogers, I love you.” The words slip through your lips so easily. “I love you, and nobody else could compare. There is no way you could disappoint me.” Your hands find his face, drawing him in for a kiss.

“You got me, Cap. I’m yours.”

“I love you too.” His voice was quiet against your lips, and his eyes seem to be drinking you in, like he wanted to remember this moment for all eternity. “So much” Your name falls off his lips like a prayer, and you can’t help but smile. “You’re too good for me, I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you.” You almost can’t believe the words tumbling out of his mouth. There he was, Captain America, talking about you like you…well like you talked about him.

“Oh Steve.” Your breath was shallow as you pressed a hot kiss against his lips, pulling him close to you, enjoying the weight of his strong body against your own. When his hands hooked under your shirt, you lifted your arms, breaking the kiss and allowing him to rid you of the garment, but before he could get you where he wanted you, you had to get him first.

“On your back soldier.” Your tone was firm and authoritative. One thing you had learned from attempting to be intimate with Steve Rogers was that there were times where he liked a firm hand, not that you minded. He was on his back in an instant, a flush on his cheeks.

“Good boy” You purred, sitting up, unhooking and removing your bra in one fluid motion, tossing it to the floor. He let you straddle him, his breath hitching as your lips found his collar bone. You left bruising kisses on his neck, making sure to mark him as your own.

“You’re mine, Rogers.” You all but growl into his ear, feeling him stiffen in his pants. You idly unbutton his shirt, before rolling off of him.

“Take off your clothes?” You ask, brushing his cheek with your hand. He complies, sitting up to strip naked, as you took the liberty of doing the same. As he fell back onto the bed, you skimmed your fingers along his bare chest.

“How do you want me, Cap?” He was flushed, you could see his erect member and damn if it wasn’t as impressive as you had thought. You trailed a hand down his stomach, lighting brushing against it, gratified when Steve moaned softy, bucking into your hand.

“’want you on top” His words were heady and low, and you could see his embarrassed blush deepen. But you could only grin. You could handle this.

“Sir, yes, sir.” You rolled your body on top of his, straddling his stomach. “You sure about this, babe?” He moaned in response. Good enough.

You lifted your body, slowly lowering yourself onto him, a gasp leaving your lips. That super soldier serum had really created a masterpiece. You winced softly, another moan leaving your lips as you finally sank all the way down.

“D-Damn, Steve.” Your fingers dug into the flesh of his chest as his hands found your thighs. You began rocking your hips, riding him as best you could. He was hitting your sweet spot naturally, it was mind-blowing, unsurprising considering that he was a genetically engineered super soldier. But that only enhanced the perfection that had already been there. Boy those girls in the 1940s sure were missing out.

He moaned so sweetly, his hands ghosting up your frame to find your breasts. He called your name once or twice, never breaking his own language rule.

You on the other hand, had quite the foul mouth.

When you moved one of your hands to your clit, trying to up the stimulation, he stopped you, replacing your hand with his own, his rough fingers bringing a wonderful new sensation.

"You're my gift." His tone had been downright devilish. "I'll be the one to play with you."

“Oh yes, Steve. Oh Goodness.” You were babbling as his hips moved to meet your own, you leaned over his body, letting him kiss you as he fucked you. “ ‘m close, babe.” You mumbled, as he grabbed your hips and flipped you over, upping the pace at the new angle. You let out an indecent sound as he finally brought you to the precipice, falling with you into orgasm.

You panted as he slid out of you, pulling you close to his frame.

“I love you.” He whispered fiercely into your ear. You didn’t think you would ever get tired of hearing that.

“I love you too.” You smiled, brushing the sweaty hair out of his face. “Happy Birthday, Steve.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chris Evans is my celebrity crush and Cap is my comic crush and together I am overwhelmed. 
> 
> Hope you all like it!


	8. The Kidnapping (T'Challa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You realized in that moment that being pregnant did hinder your fighting ability.
> 
>  
> 
> Based on the prompt: A T'Challa fic where his queen is kidnapped and T'Challa actually freaks out because he loves her and can't imagine how someone managed to take her. Normally, he would be confident that she can protect herself. However, she's pregnant and that makes him worry! Black Panther to the rescue.

“How did this happen?” The King paced back and forth, looking at his guard, the Dora Milaje, in fury. “How did she slip away from you, for a woman in…her condition…Tell me, do you know who has taken her?” He seemed to be almost feral, teeth bared, his stance firm and anxious. Although he did not let it show, he was terrified. He knew the importance of Wakanda on the world’s stage, the lengths people would go to get what they wanted. Briefly his thoughts drifted to the death of his father, a casualty, a life taken to satisfy a desire for vengeance.

His wife, his child. He clenched his fists, he would not let them fall to the same fate as his father. He could not lose anyone else. He had already lost so much. He could not stop picturing his wife’s face, the serene smile that kept him going on the days where he felt he could not carry the weight of his father’s legacy. The child he had yet to meet, his heir.

No he would not lose them.

“Your highness, she only slipped away from us for a moment, if I may speak freely, she intentionally left us.” One of the adored ones stepped forward, giving the information directly.

“The Queen intentionally left the guard?” T’Challa seemed caught off-guard at this confession on the part of his guard.

“She has…made it a frequent occurrence. We were not supposed to inform you, your highness.” The King frowned, anger superseding worry for a moment. He was not necessarily surprised at the actions of his Queen, a woman he knew to prefer the inconspicuous, a woman who did not like the pomp and circumstance of being protected by his honor guard. However, that did not excuse her actions or the actions of the adored ones.

“You allowed her to directly defy me?”

“She is a warrior, your highness, and before…when she was early on, there was no need to assume she could not protect herself. She is independent.” His eyes softened, it was true that his wife was a woman of iron will, beautifully gilded in soft words and kind actions. It was part of the reason he loved her. His heart ached to be parted from his beloved, all the more so because she was in danger, their unborn child was in danger, _his future heir was in danger._

“We have her location, King, but you are not going to like it.” Another of the Dora Milaje spoke up. “They left a note” A ransom.

She was correct in her assertion. The Queen, it seemed, had been kidnapped by mercenaries, looking for Wakandan gold and willing to go so far as thrusting the nation into a crisis to get it.

Well, unfortunately for them. T’Challa was no ordinary king. Soon enough they would face the wrath of the nation, the clawed hand of justice, the Black Panther.

“Prepare yourselves.” The King commanded, looking at the downcast eyes of his warriors. “We leave imminently” The element of surprise. Nothing would keep the King from his Queen, his beloved.

____________

In retrospect, you assumed that you should have listened to your husband. You sat, luckily unshackled, the fools who had the audacity to kidnap you lulled into a sense of security by your body, heavy with child. You placed your hand protectively over your stomach, hoping to sooth both yourself and the little one steadily growing inside of you.

T’Challa had warned you of the dangers, as your condition progressed, more people would make attempts against nation and himself through you. Yet, you had not wanted to listen, had not wanted to give up your freedom. You were still too close to your carefree days, when you ran with your hair unbound and fought much like the women who were charged with guarding you. Those days where you had caught the eye of your husband, pressing your lips to his own with fervor, grinning as he looked at you surprised, just as much courting him as he was courting you.

You smiled, in spite of yourself and the situation, at the memory.

That, in part, had been why it was so easy to convince the Dora Milaje to turn a blind eye as you enjoyed your last days of freedom before you were so pregnant you had to follow the customs of the Queens of Wakanda, retiring to the palace until you had born the child.

They could see your warrior spirit just as much as you could see theirs.

However, you had let your guard drop, you hadn’t been paying attention. The marketplace had been busy, you had your back to an open door. _A stupid mistake_ you chided yourself. It seemed that in your pregnancy you had allowed yourself to grow lax and lazy. In a split second you had been whisked off.

Now you were…somewhere.

The men guarding you were dirty, unshaven, the man in the corner had a distinctly British accent, something you took note of. Foreigners meant mercenaries, meant money.

You were being used for ransom.

The child inside of you kicked, making you wince. You hummed softly, hoping to still the baby’s movement. _Your mother loves you, your father adores you. You are the hope of your people, the future._ It was the mantra you had often repeated to the little one over the course of your 6 months of pregnancy, whenever you were anxious or ill, it helped you to breathe again, to calm down.

Often at those moments you had sought out your husband, waiting outside of meetings, or taking your place on the throne next to his, allowing him to take your hand, to caress your stomach, to kiss you.

You rubbed your eyes, not allowing yourself to appear weak in front of those who had dared to take you.

You knew that your King would come for you.

_____________

Come he did. You were exhausted now, although only hours had gone by, you were hungry, the men were talking when a scream echoed through the hallway. Not a scream, a battle cry.

The Dora Milaje.

You couldn’t stop the soft laugh that left your lips as the men around you scrambled, two leaving the room, the other three taking stances around you.

They were all armed, including the man closest to you, although he had yet to draw his weapon. You were far too outnumbered, for the first time since finding out you were expecting, you regretted the loss of your fighting form.

You took a breath, anxiety flowing through you as the men looked at you. You needed them to slip up. You needed-

The vent above you burst, sending the men scattering. A graceful form landed near you.

Your _husband._ Clad in his Black Panther Uniform, his lithe body poised to attack.

“Take another step and the woman dies.” The British man barks, pointing his gun at your stomach. You draw your hands around your belly, glaring at him.

“It would not be in your best interest to threaten the life of a crowned Queen.” The deep, musical voice of T’Challa made your breath catch.

He had come for you, like you knew he would. You would be safe.

He moved like lightening, striking the man quickly, the others opened fire, you dropped to the ground, doing your best to not harm your child. As one of the men turned to land a blow on your husband you saw an opening, picking up the chair you had been sitting in, bringing it across his back with a sickening crack.

He was immobilized quickly.

Soon enough the only people standing were you and your husband, the Dora Milaje filing in.

“The building has been cleared, your Highness.” One reported.

You felt the tears suddenly, and you cursed the hormones that so wildly filled your body. T’Challa noticed your distress, removing his mask and wrapping his arms around you, drawing you close to the safety of his body.

You took a deep breath, allowing yourself to relax against him.

“My precious one, my queen.” He whispered into your ear.

“My king, my love.” You responded, clutching his uniform. He kissed you softly, checking you for injury, his hands finding your stomach. His eyes found yours.

“The little one is fine, my darling.” You responded, your hands moving to rest on top of his. “We are both fine, thanks to you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T'Challa, King, Superhero, best husband and dad ever. 
> 
> For QueenOfWakanda. Hope you enjoy!


	9. Rulers II (T'Challa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wanted to befriend these...Avengers. 
> 
>  
> 
> Prompt: Sequel to Rulers, where the Avengers get to interact with T'Challa's queen.

Meals with the Avengers were different. You had seen many things over your life, especially since becoming consort to T’Challa, but they continued to surprise you.

Each of them was so remarkably different from the other, you couldn’t help but almost question how it had taken them so long to come to blows. Yet, you found yourself easily falling into step with each of them. Forming friendships much faster than you had expected.

First, there had been Steve. You knew that you needed to win his trust. He was obviously the leader, you hadn’t needed your husband to tell you that, he carried himself like he was in charge, like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. His blue eyes always seemed to hold guilt just below the surface, you wondered how he was holding up under the rapid changes coming to his life.

“Captain Rogers?” You had questioned, stepping by his side. He was staring out into the lust jungle of Wakanda, his face impassive.

“Your highness.” He seemed surprised, like you had snuck up on him. “I didn’t see you.”

“You will be seeing me very well in a month or so.” You countered easily, a laugh on your lips as you gestured to your stomach. “I will be hard to miss.” He smiled softly at that, relaxing at the joke.

“Your country is very beautiful, ma’am.”

“But very different from your home.” You looked at him, reaching out to pat his hand. “You are homesick, Captain?” he nodded.

“I spent 70 years in the ice, but I still haven’t learned how to let go of Brooklyn.” You let a small smile grace your lips.

“I understand what it is like to be homesick, it will never leave you, but perhaps you can work on making this your home, at least temporarily.” The man nods, a soft sigh leaving his lips.

“You’re right.”

___________

The second person you target is Wanda, the frightened young girl touched your heart with her withdrawn demeanor and sad eyes. You wanted badly to draw her into your circle, to be her friend.

So when you found her, crouching in her bedroom, idly playing her guitar, you couldn’t control the knock you placed on her door.

She looked up, not surprised necessarily, but wary.

“Wanda?” You ask, taking a step into the room.

“Your Highness.”

“May I listen?” She seemed confused as you pointed to her guitar, but allowed you to curl up behind you in the bed, braiding her hair as she played.

She talked to you about many things that afternoon. Her family, Sokovia, her brother, the Avengers tower.

You made sure to invite her the next time you went out to the marketplace.

____________

Sam Wilson you do not have to integrate into your home. He came bringing life and a sort of sarcastic jovial style that seemed to lighten the mood of everyone he was around.

He also managed to worm his way into the routine of your husband.

It became common for you to sit and watch the man with wings spar your panther in battle, ever so often accompanied by Captain Rogers. You knew it was good for all of them, cathartic.

You did make sure to introduce him to the Dora Milaje, and to every woman you knew who was single.

He was a flirt.

You liked Sam Wilson.

___________

Clint Barton and Scott Lang both came with families. As an expectant mother you felt wretched listening to Scott tell his daughter goodnight over the phone, or watching Clint video chat his wife and children.

So with a few very diplomatic phone calls, you were able to do something you were very proud of.

Clint got the surprise first, as you gathered everyone together. His wife and children had apparently been living in rural America, she had no problem telling you that they would be happy to move if you were willing to take them.

The idea of having someone around you who understood what happened after childbirth thrilled you, and T’Challa could not think of one good reason not to fulfill your desire.

“Mr. Barton.” You said, as everyone in the room quieted down. “You have a very special set of guests.” Just like that his children tumbled into the room, followed by his wife.

You could see the tears in her eyes, and in his. You and Captain Rogers exchanged a glance, even as your husband squeezed your hand.

He told you later that he did not know how he managed to find such a _kind and loving_ wife.

You told him that you still didn’t know how you managed to capture such a wise and dutiful husband.

He had laughed, his deep laugh still thrilling you as it had when you had been courting.

Scott’s daughter had been offered the ability to spend her holidays in Wakanda, disguised as a student missions’ initiative. You knew the ant-man was grateful, and it gladdened you to meet the girl.

______________

Then came the Black Widow. Natasha Romanova. You had heard many things about her from your husband. You had also managed to gather some information on her on your own. You wanted to be prepared.

So imagine your surprise when it was her who approached you, sitting by you one day as you practiced piano.

“I suppose it is fitting for a queen to play an instrument?” She asked, sliding onto the piano chair. You looked at her with a smile.

“I think someone said that to me once, when I was younger.” Your fingers ghosted the keys. “Although I never learned to dance.”

“Maybe I can teach you one day, specifically one day when you are not so pregnant.” You laughed, tilting your head back. You were beginning to show quite prominently. “I would like that, Natasha.” She paused, an uncomfortable silence filling the room.

“Perhaps you and Wanda would like to accompany me one morning? The Dora Milaje escorts me around the grounds, to ensure I don’t get stolen, but they aren’t very talkative.” Natasha nods.

“Thank you” She blurts out. You blink. “You and T’Challa, for what you have done.”

“Anytime.”

___________

You sat with your husband, his hand intertwined with yours, as you leaned on his shoulder. The scientist was droning on about something with the brain, and try as you might you couldn’t bring yourself to pay attention.

You blamed it on the pregnancy.

In the corner Natasha and Captain Rogers sat, each so enthralled that it made you wish you could put yourself in the mindset.

After several months of tireless working, they had figured out how to reverse the hydra effect on Sergeant Barnes’s mind. Now they were explaining it.

“Are you happy.” T’Challa’s voice broke through your revere.

“I am always happy when I am with you, my King.” You laughed softly, pressing a kiss against his cheek.

“Ah, my love, but are you happy with what you have done with the Avengers?” Your smile only widened, an innocent look on your face. “What have I done?” He could only chuckle.

“I will take that as a yes, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The long awaited sequel, for Tastethewind.
> 
> In which all the Avengers are angels, but the Queen is especially an angel.


	10. Soulmates (Steve Rogers)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve Rogers had waited 70 years for you, it was only fair that you wait for him too.
> 
> Soulmate AU because yes. Please I love these the most, if you wanna request a soulmates or A/B/O I am game, yo.

Growing up you could remember always dreaming of the day you would meet your soulmate. Your hands ghosting softly over the words pressed into the skin on top of your collar bone, a reminder that somewhere on this Earth the person you were supposed to be with existed.

You waited that way for what felt like a lifetime. Growing up in a small town, you had seen your friends pair off with one another while you consistently remained alone. Deep down you couldn’t shake the fear that the one meant for you…didn’t exist. That you were one of the flukes, destined to remain alone.

So you took the first chance you could to follow in your grandfather’s footsteps and join Shield, a young girl of 18, in order to escape your small town and find your person.

You could have never imagined you would find him in Washington D.C., six years later, as you frantically tried to help Hill shut down three gigantic world ending flying death machines. Yet there you were, staring at Captain Rogers, the man out of time, himself when he uttered the words you have been dying to hear your entire life.

“Thank you for your help, miss.” Nothing fancy, nothing noteworthy, but when the words left his lips you could have sworn that you had never heard something so beautiful. He was watching you intently, you assumed trying to make sure you weren’t some HYDRA spy. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth. The words you said back to him were make or break for your future happiness, you couldn’t screw this up.

“If it means getting to meet you, it will have been worth it.” The words left your mouth so easily, naturally, like you had been made to say them. You were watching him like a hawk, hoping for some kind of sign. You could see his eyes widen, understanding crossing his features as he reaches a hand to his left pectoral, pressing a spot you could only assume held your own words. Your own arm reached up, allowing your hand to press against that spot on your collar bone.

He nodded at you, you could see the consternation on his face, even as you realized he was about to go into a literal battle. It dawned on you, there was a chance that he wouldn’t make it back. You couldn’t stop yourself from reaching for him, watching his own hands tangle themselves with yours, pressing your lips against his mouth in a heated, but brief, kiss. A kiss that cemented your bond as soulmates, a kiss that made all of your nerve endings seem to fire, a kiss that both delighted you and terrified you with its power. You could feel him respond to your touch as naturally as though he had been made for you, which was the case, you realized as you smiled against his lips. The room around you got quiet. You pulled away.

“Be safe, Captain Rogers, and come back _to me_ alive.” You breathed at him, as he pressed your hand to his lips. He paused, seemingly torn between duty and fate.

“Whatever I have to do, miss.” And he was gone, just like that, leaving you to explain to Maria that there was a reason you kissed Captain America.

He didn’t even know your name.

_____________

To be fair, Steve had given up on the idea of a soulmate a long time ago, he had met Peggy Carter, felt the thrill and disappointment, and decided that soulmates weren’t worth having if it removed the option to _choose_. As the plane had barreled itself into the ice, he had thought perhaps it was best that way. He wouldn’t have wanted to meet his soulmate, only to have them lose him like that.

The irony of the current situation was not lost on him.

He had spent the better part of his youth, wishing, hoping for his soulmate to appear. The fact that he had words on his body at all being enough to shock most people. It had gotten to the point where the only way Bucky could get him to go out was to remind him that the dame he was meeting with that night might be _the one_.

They never were.

His thoughts drifted to Bucky, even as he disabled the first ship.

Her voice echoed over his comm link, it seemed strange that they had only met once but her voice could make his heart ache, he couldn’t focus on it.

He had a mission.

He had to find Bucky.

Time passed so quickly, until he was face to face with his best friend.

“I’m with ya to the end of the line, Buck.”

She went silent on the comm as Hill’s voice reminded him that he had a mission to do, and not very much time left to do it. He had to wonder, in his brief thoughts before crashing into the water, if fate was really that cruel.

___________

You sat, idly chatting with Sam in the hospital room where you had both been holed up for three days. You were starting to get anxious, checking the Captain’s vitals regularly.

Sam knew, Hill had explained it to both him and Fury while you sat dead quiet after the carriers went down.

Sam had been the one to call you when they found him, to drive you to the hospital. He was a good friend, you silently offered a thank you to whoever had brought the two men together.

It was strange to think that you now knew Wilson better than you knew the man you were waiting for.

Not a bad strange, you liked Sam, he was hilarious, and he really helped you get comfortable. He even introduced you to Natasha, not that you didn’t know Agent Romanova, he just introduced you by your new title.

“She’s Cap’s soulmate!” He had exclaimed as the redheaded assassin had watched the blush blossom on your face.

Now you were both here. You felt a sort of stirring in your chest.

“I think Captain Rogers is about to wake up.” You looked at Wilson, a sort of excited apprehension in your eyes.

“You may want to try calling him Steve, I mean you did casually make out with him during a dangerous, world threatening mission.” You laughed softly. “You sure that our old man is about to wake up?”

“I mean, that is what it feels like.” You pointed at your mark, looking at him. “It went dead for a little bit, but it feels warm now, like he is started to become conscious.”

“I forget about all the creepy soulmate telepathy stuff.”

“Jeez, Sam. Way to make something romantic something weird.”

“How you holding up?” He changes the subject, noticing your downcast face. You hadn’t even tried to hide it, worry superseding any sense of propriety you had.

“It just feels strange. I mean I’ve been here this whole time these last few days, but I’m still nervous. What if…he doesn’t want this? Things are different. It was so spur of the moment.” You bit your lip as Sam placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“He’d be an idiot then, and I’d tell him. Plus you’d always have this handsome shoulder to cry on.” You playfully punched his ‘handsome shoulder’.

“Do you think I should step out?” You asked, finally getting to your point. “Do you think it would be easier if he just saw you first? So you could explain everything?” You were fiddling with the hem of your shirt, contemplating leaving the room.

“No, but that does remind me that I am starving. Want anything from the cafeteria?” Sam stood up, winking at you even as you starting stuttering a response. “I’ll leave you to it!”

You sighed, reaching over to hover your hand over Steve’s never actually touching him. It felt wrong, disingenuous. You didn’t know him at all. Your mark ached with your own sorrow, and you tried your best to keep it in. You didn’t want to project your pain onto him. Not after all he went through.

You had taken the liberty to obtain and read Sergeant Barnes’s file afterwards. Even as you sat with Maria and Sharon, trying to decide how your life would go with Shield gone.

Who were you without Shield? A person with no home, no legacy.

Your grandfather had served Shield loyally all his days. Had he known? You were glad he had passed before all of this had happened. That he didn’t have to see the organization he had so much faith in dissolve before his eyes.

You felt something brush your hand, and your eyes shot up. They were met by the brilliant blue-green of Steve Rogers. “Oh you’re awake.” The worlds tumbled out of your mouth. “How are you feeling? I’m sorry, I wasn’t sure if it was okay for me to be in here. Do you want me to get Sam?” He tightened his grip on your hand.

“No, No, please stay, doll.” His voice was husky with disuse. The purple-green bruises on his face making you wince. Your free hand reached up, brushing the hair out of his face. “Actually I was afraid you wouldn’t be here when I woke up.” His tone was pained. You understood immediately, the last time he’d gone under he had woken up 70 years later.

“Okay.” Pulling your chair closer to his hospital bed, you allowed him to intertwine his fingers in yours, relishing the warmth of his touch and the fact that he was _alive_.

The first thing you did was blurt out your name. Enjoying the soft smile that broke onto his face. “I knew I hadn’t told you before, but I felt like you should know.”

“Maybe.” He grinned, your heart soaring in your chest. He repeated your name back to you, and you swore you had never heard it uttered so sweetly. You sighed softly, as he sat up, brushing a hand against your face, pressing his lips against your own.

This one was softer, slower, you melted into it, his hands tangling themselves in your hair. It was like he was trying to make up for the seventy years he had spent on ice, for rushing off into battle. When you pulled away he sighed.

“You know.” Your voice was soft. “I think we have a lot of catching up to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will have a sequel. Because yes.
> 
> Also, if you notice the Hamilton references, I love you.


	11. Jealous (Tony Request)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two could play it that game.
> 
> Prompt: Jealous Tony.

You can remember the moment when you finally snapped. It was about three drinks into one of the infamous Stark parties, and two hours into a long night. You had been scanning the crowd, looking for someone in particular, and when you saw him you had to resist making a scene.

There he was, Tony Stark himself, your very attractive boyfriend of over a year getting handsy with one of the guest. An equally attractive woman you knew for a fact was probably a model.

You clutched your drink tightly in your hand, tilting back your head and downing it.

Maybe you wouldn’t have been so angry if this wasn’t a common occurrence. The man had no boundaries, no semblance of what was appropriate or inappropriate when it came to relationships. He had no problem openly flirting with other women or even men, and at the end of the day when you confronted him more often than not angry and in tears he would laugh it off, brushing your worries aside telling you that you were the only one he loved, and that he just couldn’t help himself.

Couldn’t help himself. Like he got some sick pleasure out of making you jealous. You had set your drink down and endured the rest of the night, smiling and laughing and pretending like you weren’t planning your revenge.

You had even let him lead you onto the dancefloor, let him kiss you, pretend like he wasn’t just feeling up some random woman.

Well.

Two could play it that way Stark.

You’d been smiling and sweet and thoroughly beaten, but you were done with that, with accepting it like you were a housewife circa 1830, nope, this time you were ready to fight fire with fire.

This time you would make him jealous.

He could count on that.

____________

It didn’t take long for an opportunity to present itself. Only two weeks. Tony, or Mr. Stark as you always referred to him when you were upset, was quite the party animal and was holding a fundraiser tonight. Fundraisers were almost always filled with wealthy old men with an eye for anything sparkly.

Well damn if you wouldn’t sparkle with the best of them.

You took more time on your hair and makeup, vowing to impress. Your dress, immaculate, fit you perfectly. You were like a shining star in the darkness of a crowd.

You were ready to win.

The fundraiser was really something. The liquor flowed freely, better for loosening pockets, or so Tony said. You could hear the audible intake of breath of the men around you as you entered the room. Yeah you were pretty hot.

And where was your boyfriend? Off chatting up some woman in a hot little red number in the corner. You shook your head, the flirts always came in red. Trying to stroke your Tony’s already unreasonably high ego.

Fucking Iron Man.

You sighed, moving over to the bar, best to appear as vulnerable as you could, draw in the men. You scanned the room, trying to find the right type of man. Younger than Tony, attractive, obviously wealthy.

Your eyes landed on a man, soft brunet, blue eyes. He had been watching you, when your eyes slid over to him you could see him smirk, looking you up and down.

You softly smiled, turning away just slightly, not closing yourself off, but expressing embarrassment.

Stroke the ego, darling.

All you had to do was wait. Knowing you wouldn’t have to wait long. Sure enough, he was by your side in a moment, sliding up beside you, his arm falling loosely around your waist.

Men.

“I’m sure you’ve already heard this tonight, darling, but you are beautiful. The most stunning thing in the room.”

“Actually you are the first one here to tell me that, sugar.” You reply, sipping at your drink. He was leaning far too close for comfort and his breath was right in your ear. You hated it.

“Well then, I think everyone in here must be blind, because I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you.” Oh you hated this guy already. He stunk like old cigars and his hands were a little too wandering for your taste.

Was Tony even paying attention to you?

You threw back your head and laughed, more loudly than you ever would have normally, hoping to draw the attention of your boyfriend so he could at least attempt to save you from this guy. Suddenly the thought crossed your mind that maybe Tony wasn’t the jealous type. You scoffed, of course he was. He was- The man pulled you against him, his grip almost painful on your wrist.

“W-Wait a second.” You stuttered as a hand shot out, pulling the man away from you. The irate face of your boyfriend met your sheepish gaze

“Back off buddy. I think the lady here has made it pretty clear she isn’t interested.” The man looked at Tony, recognizing him immediately, and apparently thought twice of continuing the argument, choosing to slink off instead.

Tony looked concerned, as though he was checking you over to make sure you hadn’t been injured.

“Tony I-“

“We’ll talk about it after this is done.” His hand found yours, protectively pulling you to him. “Shouldn’t be much schmoozing left. They all seem ready to put out, anyway.”

You hoped it was almost over.

His hand never detangled itself from yours, a new development, and you noticed he barely paid any attention to the other people in the room.

The type of change you could get behind.

__________

When you got back to his rooms he all but threw you onto the bed, climbing onto you and crashing his lips against your own. You let him for a moment before pulling away. “What has gotten into you, Tony?”

“Did you know that man?”

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb, the man who couldn’t keep his hands off of you. I asked if you knew him.”

“No.” Your tone was clipped. Tony was obviously mad, but hadn’t’ you been mad so many times before?

“What the hell was that about then?”

“What, Stark, are you jealous?” You shot back, allowing him to kiss you again, his body flush against your own.

“That’s not important-“

“Yes it is! I thought you needed a taste of your own medicine.” You snorted, watching the emotions swirl over his face.

“What?”

“That is why I let him touch me, I wanted to see if you’d care. I-“

“Of course I care, why would I want anyone to touch you like that but me?” His hands trailed your flesh, making you shiver.

“I wanted you to get a taste of your medicine. You do this to me all the time.”

He frowned.

“No-“

“Liar. You were doing it earlier with that blonde.” Your turn to be irate, he sighed, pulling you against him.

“Fine, I get it.” He concedes easily. “I took the hint, I’ll reform. I just don’t want to ever see another person touch you like that again.” You smirked.

"You better admit that you were jealous if YOU ever want to touch me again."

"Fine, I was jealous. I am jealous." He nuzzled your neck and you couldn't hold back a giggle.

"Good enough."

"So we are agreed. I'll behave if you behave." You met his eye, and noted the mischievous gleam.

"Stark, so help me, if you are playing with me-"

"I would never." He fake gasped. "I meant every word. I want you to be mine."

"Nobody but me?" You asked, tugging his hair gently, enjoying the way his body tensed and relaxed.

“Nobody but you.” He rolled over onto you, kissing you again. “And for you only me.”

You could live with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Mr. Stark, please enjoy this.
> 
> A request for Trexlyn! Hope you enjoy, love!


	12. Cat and Mouse (Evil! T'Challa Sequel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning! Slight dubcon. 
> 
> It was like a game of cat and mouse but the mouse always seemed to lose.
> 
> Prompt: Can you do something else with Evil!T'Challa? Maybe something where the reader tries to leave and T'Challa chases her, then it turns into a scary-ass game of hide and seek around the palace?

You had to get out. You had to escape. It was like you were living in some nightmare world, a dream that appears heavenly but upon further inspection is revealed to be grotesque, a masque ball where everyone is dead.

T’Challa had been serious when he had told you that you would be his new pet. It was as though you had never existed outside of the palace. You were petted, pampered and prepared for show, more like a prized show dog than a person. You realized quickly that you were falling into a rhythm much too quickly, developing something your coworkers at HYDRA would have called ‘Stockholm syndrome’. You…well…you were developing, had developed feelings for your captor. Perhaps they had been there the entire time, you really couldn’t be sure at this point. All you knew was that as one week dragged into two and two dragged into a month that the longer you waited the less likely it would be that you would ever escape.

So you began planning, the palace was large, but also largely empty. Luckily enough, there was a government capitol building where most of running of Wakanda took place, and where you knew T’Challa and his Dora Milaje spent most of their time.

The Avengers were gone as well, off on some sort of mercenary business. Luckily for you, T’Challa had no desire for you to meet them, something you felt must have come from his natural protectiveness. He had made it clear from the beginning that you were his and his alone.

You had a feeling that ‘ownership’ and ‘boundaries’ weren’t taken very seriously by the villainous group and he evidently had no desire in seeing you passed around. Frankly neither did you. So you kept your distance, kept your head down, and when he was gone, when they were gone, you took the opportunity to survey your surroundings, you made your plans, you gathered your courage.

Better to die in the glory of freedom than trapped in a gilded cage waiting for a time when you weren’t useful or beautiful to render you obsolete.

Better to part with T’Challa now before he got it in his head that your time was up. Something inside of you ached.

No. Nope. You didn’t get to have feelings for the man literally holding you captive, even if his lips were soft and when he _touched you_ …

It was time for you to escape.

___________

Nothing could ever work out like how you wanted it to, could it? Wakanda, HYDRA, the king, you just weren’t destined for an easy life.

You had it all planned out, down to the last detail, you knew you could make it out, knew you could escape, but it was like he could read you, like he knew what you were planning.

Which is why when he had come to you, pressing his lips to your forehead, his dangerous voice silky smooth, to let you know that you would be leaving with him for a trip abroad, you balked.

If he took you out of Wakanda, who knew where he would bring you or how it could affect your ability to find freedom. You had stared at him with wide eyes even as his own eyes had narrowed, it had been a split second move, ducking under his arm and breaking into a sprint. You ducked into a side room as you head his feet go past you. You thanked HYDRA for the stealth training you had received.

You knew he wouldn’t send anyone to find you, he’d want to do it himself.

You were his prey after all.

You could hear his deep breath even as you saw his eyes, seeming to glint like a cat’s in the darkness, even as you crawled further behind the large ornate art piece in the corner of the room. He stepped forward and you heard him walk into the bathroom as you slipped out of the room, sprinting again.

It was like some sadistic game of hide and seek. A hand reached out of nowhere, grabbing your arm, you skidded to a stop, meeting the eyes of the Wakandan King, you shuddered softly as he tutted his tongue.

“You have been a very naughty kitten.” He smirked, tugging you close and kissing you. You responded by pushing your full weight into the kiss, feeling him loosen the grip on your hand, as though he thought you were going to fall and he wanted to catch you.

You yanked yourself away quickly, flinging yourself down the nearest hallway, down a flight of stairs.

The royal crypt. Right. There was an exit down here, it opened up to a little jungle. If you could just escape into it, you’d be free. You could navigate from there.

They wouldn’t find you.

You took a sharp breath and then jumped as a deep chuckle broke through your revere.

“You are quick, I will give you that, little one.” There he was, in all his glory, standing in front of you, in front of your exit.

You were absolutely fucked.

“Your Highness.” Was all you managed as he strode over to you.

Even as he tilted your head back and kissed you, his body as calm as the ocean.

Even as he carried you back to his bed.

Yeah, you were fucked alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This man. This man, <3 
> 
> Request for CUPCAKEQUEEN


	13. Aches and Pains (Natasha/Male!Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha was glad to have you, for sure.
> 
> Prompt: Natasha gets a foot massage from the Male Reader, confessions ensue.

Natasha was sore. Not the normal just in need of rest type of sore, but the dull ache that would linger for days type of sore. She had just finished a long mission where she had spent what felt like weeks standing up, her legs were on fire. She was back now, at least, and was now trying to rest on the couch while you both watched a movie. It wasn’t working. She shifted for a third time, a soft sigh leaving her mouth while you watched her curiously.

“Is something the matter?” You asked, no real malice in your tone, just concern. Natasha sighed.

“My feet hurt like hell.” Her tone was less kind.

“Would you like a massage?” She paused at the suggestion. Well she would actually.

“Are you willing to give one?”

“Sure.” Natasha watched as you pulled her legs into your lap, your strong hands resting against the balls of her feet firmly. She sighed when you began slowly kneading the stress out of her body. It felt very nice, she had to admit. She also had to admit that she would not have let anyone else do this, not even Clint. She knew exactly what that meant.

She watched you for a few moments more, noting the concentration on your face, she pulled herself into a seated position, being sure to keep her feet in your lap. You looked up at her, more than a little shocked when she pressed her lips to yours. It was a short kiss, sweet and longing.

“I just want you to know, that I like you.”

“I like you too.” She likes that your voice seems to quake, that your hands falter.

“I want to be with you.” She conceded, watching you face carefully.

“I do too.”

“If not for anything than just so I can keep you around to massage my feet!” Her playful tone lightened up the atmosphere considerably. She watched you press a kiss to each of her feet, looking up at her with adoring eyes.

“You’re beautiful you know? I’d do this every day.”

When you finished you set her legs back down and she stood up, grabbing you by the collar.

“Let’s go finish this somewhere else, big boy.” She smiles as you kiss her, more eagerly this time.

She was lucky to have someone as considerate and kind as you, she decided.

________

Elsewhere in the tower, Pepper was watching the video feed of the incident, showing it off to Wanda, Hill and Darcy. Jane was absent for the afternoon, so she felt obligated to treat them to a girls day. What better way than watching the cameras.

“That massage looked killer.” Darcy commented, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“I need one of those.” Hill commented, a glint in her eye. “Maybe Natasha wouldn’t mind sharing.”

“Perhaps that wouldn’t be wise, Natasha seems very possessive.” Wanda piped up her eyes widened slightly. “I think she would…eh…get violent.” “Tony never does that for me.” Pepper grumbles, shutting off the tape. “Lets go grab a bite to eat, girls.”

 

___________

Somewhere in the tower at that moment, a chill passed through Tony Stark. A disturbance in the force if you will. He turned to Bruce, a confused look on his face.

“Did you feel that?”

“No.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Natasha is great! 
> 
>  
> 
> For JackSparrow789


	14. A Night off (T'Challa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You loved him more than you thought possible, for all the joy and sorrow he had brought into your life, you loved him.
> 
> Prompt: T'Challa has been very busy lately, but finally gets to spend some time with his Queen.

You loved your husband. There was no doubt. More than you had ever loved another person and more so as every day passed. You understood that he had responsibilities as well.

Certainly more than the average man.

Serious responsibilities that you knew weighed on his conscious. How could they not?

When you had set aside the mantle of warrior, when you had accepted his offer of marriage and allowed yourself to put down the objects of youth in order to pick up the responsibilities of marriage you had been surprised at his hesitance. He had asked you after all. Yet, he seemed more cautious after you had agreed, as though he was expecting you to not choose him. _You would choose him every time._

When you finally confronted him he had told you that although he loved you his nation would always come first, he was their king, their protector. He should have made it more clear before asking you. He didn’t want you to make a mistake.

You had kissed him then, letting him know you would have him anyway. You understood the concept of Queen Consort. More than that, you respected a man who wouldn’t lie to you. He hadn’t lied.

And so you loved him.

You loved T’Challa, but you knew better than to force from him more than he was able to give.

You loved Wakanda, you loved waking up beside him every morning and you weren’t lonely…per se.

You had your son. His son. You smiled softly to yourself, the little one was nearing two now, a carbon copy of his father, although perhaps just slightly more energetic. He kept you busy, you had put your foot down then. There would be no full time nanny raising your child when you were fully capable of doing it on your own. You had not abandoned your life and allowed yourself to be put upon a pedestal only to abandon your child to strangers.

You laughed despite yourself. You were happy you knew, even if you wished more than anything that you could have more time with your husband, with your king. You looked down at the little one, asleep in his ornate crib-bed, and you brushed your hand against his soft cheek. You had known how much apprehension T’Challa had felt when you told him you were pregnant. He knew he needed an heir, but his own mother had died in childbirth, bringing him into the world.

Yet you were here. You marveled at the fact that you and he had created a life, and the life was this perfect little boy. How much you loved the both of them!

_________

You yawned softly, having cleaned yourself up for the evening, you were quite ready for bed. Snuggling into the soft sheets, you couldn’t help the sigh that left your throat. T’Challa always managed to make it back to your bed when he was home, and you missed him while he was away.

And you wished he wasn’t away so much.

________

The King sighed, looking down at his child with a sense of wonderment. Even after all this time, whenever he stopped to consider the fact that he had played a role in making the little one, he felt awe. Sometimes guilt as well.

One day the burdens of his nation would be placed on his son’s shoulders, so small now, and that idea made him want to weep. The little boy stirred in his sleep as his father smoothed down his hair.

He would do everything in his power to make sure that the mantle of king would not slip to his son for many years yet.

When he stepped into the bedroom he was unsurprised to find his wife already in bed, although it was easy for him to see she was not asleep. When he opened the door she had perked up immediately, opening her eyes just slightly to make sure the intruder was him. He heard her sigh contentedly, pushing herself into a seated position.

“Husband.” She cooed, opening her arms to him.

“Wife.” He replied, pulled her against his body, kissing her soundly. He had missed her these last few days, her warmth, her advice, her _touch_.

When she pulled him down, turning him to where he lay flush against the bed he decided that she must have felt the same way too.

____________

Ah it was good to have him home and in your bed. You smiled at him mischievously, when you turned him, you had straddled his waist, revealing your incredibly nude state. He had looked at you in surprise.

“I see you are eager.”

“Why would I not be eager, when I knew you would be returning to me, my king.” You all but purred at him, tugging off his shirt in glee. He smirked, leaning up to kiss you again, even as your hands unbuttoned his pants.

“I missed you.” He breathed as he helped you remove his clothing, clearly desiring to be just as nude as you were. “I do not like to be parted from you.” You trailed hot kisses down his neck as he talked.

“My love, the world is dark without you here.” You respond, a laugh in your throat. You felt more eager and giddy than you had in a while, more like the girl you had been. The girl who had been quick to corner the man who would become your husband, quick to take charge. Take charge you did, stroking his length with purpose, enjoying the way his head fell back and his soft moaning.

You positioned yourself easily, sliding onto him without much effort. You had missed _this_. His hands rested on your hips, gripped tightly as you bounced on top of him. His strangled moans more than enough to keep you going. He was tired, so were you, but you were both hungry for this. You angled your body gasping as he began meeting your movements with his own. One of his hands moving to stroke your sensitive nub.

You were already so close. Yet, so was he, his breath coming in shorter spurts. When he did let go, you sighed at the feeling, continuing to ride him through it, your own orgasm following soon after.

You fell beside him, as he nuzzled your neck.

You suddenly felt too tired to move.

He mumbled an 'I love you' even as you made a comment about how the Queen would always conquer.

He kissed your forehead, and you heard him chuckle when you pushed yourself closer against him.

It was good to have him home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS MAN.
> 
> Also somehow I have watched/written T'Challa's queen all the way through her pregnancy. This pleases me. 
> 
> For Tastethewind.


	15. A few days off (Alpha!Pietro)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes it was hard to keep up with Pietro, but this time, he was being too slow.
> 
> Prompt: Alpha!Pietro with smut.

You bit your lip. It was enough, you supposed, being an Omega in the Avengers tower, which was a place filled to the brim with literal superhero Alphas and Betas, but for them to all be so attractive? It should have been a crime. You sighed, returning to your paperwork.

It wasn’t particularly difficult to be an Omega these days, you remembered your grandmother telling stories about how in her day even arranged marriage and mating was common in order to protect the ‘virtues’ of omegas.

Not so anymore.

In fact you were pretty sure you had less difficulties than your Avengers friends.

As it turned out, being a privately operated superhero organization created quite a stir, you had been hired to basically clean up the mess that the Avengers tended to make everywhere they went. Paperwork, press conferences, hell even proofreading or writing speeches. You were basically a one-woman secretary army.

A breeze blew through, scattering your papers everywhere.

Oh yes. A ‘breeze’. You frowned.

“Pietro!” You shouted as the blur stopped in front of you. The very foreign, very attractive alpha grinned at you, leaning down to nuzzle your neck, scenting you openly. You flushed, a soft and completely uncontrolled sigh leaving your mouth. Pietro always flirted with you, becoming more brazen as time passed. You didn’t make a move to stop him, even when you caught the more disapproving looks of your coworkers. Pietro was attractive, and there was something about his scent…like honey cakes and cedar trees, that reminded you of home.

“Yes?” He responds, a pleased smile on his features.

“My papers.” You point, giving him a withered look.

“The wind?”

“If by wind you mean you.” You bop the top of his nose. “Now pick them up, pretty boy. I have work to do.” A blur again, you smirked at the stack of paper on your desk, back where it was supposed to be.

“I am a what was that? A pvetty boy?”

“A pretty boy.” You sang back to him. “A pretty boy who needs to let me get back to work.”

“Ah you kill me, I am dying, I am dead.”

“You will be more dead if you don’t get out of my office.”

“Ah okay.” He kissed your check, his lips moving to just above your ear.

“If you need me in the next few days, little doll, just give me a call.”

And he was gone.

Leaving you mildly confused, and more than your fair share behind on work.

____________

Two days later you figured out what exactly had been offering when you woke up sore and sweating. You moaned in pain as you rolled onto your stomach, feeling the slickness in between your thighs.

You were in heat.

Shit. Fuck. Dammit.

Unexpected heat.

You pulled yourself up, half dragging yourself to your thermostat, turning down as low as your budget would allow. Your legs were weak,

A bad heat, then.

You normally did so well, you knew when it would be arriving, you scheduled yourself around it. But…But since starting this job, you had been late and you didn’t realize it. Stress, probably.

Well fuck it all.

You collapsed back onto the bed, texting your boss, Mr. Stark, to let him know that you wouldn’t be coming in for the next few days.

By the time you were done you were feeling hazy, ill. You were sweating like crazy.

You whimpered as you yanked off your pajamas. The room was still so hot. You were so hot. Needed…knot…

Dammit. Dammit. Shit. What you needed was to pull yourself together. You could not afford this right now. You just needed to sleep it off.

What you normally did, perhaps wasn’t wise either.

Normally you called in a prescription of sleeping pills and kept your miserable body sedated for the majority of your heat cycle. You hadn’t called anything in this time.

So you were stuck, hot and wanting, for the next few days.

Your hands reached your underwear, pushing it off with some difficulty, dipping in to skim your clit, you were already soaked with slick, you tried to stimulate yourself.

A frustrated groan left your lips, it wasn’t enough!

Time was going by, so slowly, you buried your face in the pillow, a choked sob leaving your throat. How were you going to make it through the next few days? There was nothing, nothing, no way to replicate-

Your phone was ringing.

You tried to answer it, but as the hours had ticked by you had gotten less and less in control of your body. Your sheets were soaked through with sweat. You swiped the phone open, managing a muffled moan of pain before hanging up.

You couldn’t even tell who had called.

You wished that you had had the presence of mind to get yourself a bottle of water, it was just all too much.

___________

You awoke later to the sound of a door opening. Then…

Oh goodness.

That smell.

A moan left your mouth. Divine, delicious, you wanted to drown in it.

“P-Pietro.” You moaned pitifully. The air stirring around you, it was overwhelming. You clutched at the sheets in an effort to not roll over and present yourself right there. You heard him whisper your name, brushing a hand across your forehead.

You heard him mutter something, something you couldn’t understand.

“E-English.” You joked, pushing yourself into a sitting position. It was so hard to move right now, everything was so hazy. You needed…you needed him.

“You uh…you smell amazing, like cinnamon and chocolate.” His voice falters, like he is embarrassed. You have never in your life seen Pietro embarrassed. But something in his voice-

“Pietro” You manage again, your voice more of a moan than a coherent word. “Need you…need your knot.” You could feel your bed sink as he joined you, pulling you to him, allowing you to bury your face in his neck, scenting him hungrily. It wasn’t hard to pick up on the scent change, he was going into an early rut because of your heat.

You could feel your skin prickling, a relieved noise leaving your throat.

Pietro was here. You loved Pietro, he’d take care of you.

“Oh, poor little one.” You could tell he was holding back, his arms falling limply around you. His breathing was ragged.

You were confused.

Did he not…want you? The thought of your Alpha not wanting you made you want to cry. You could feel the tears in your eyes.

Pietro’s reaction was immediate. A distressed omega produced pheromones that were designed to appeal to alphas in the area, designed to create an automatic response. He couldn’t deny simple biology. He pulled you tightly against him, rocking your needy body against his own. Your legs had fallen to either side of his hips so you were straddling him. With every rock of his body your own pressed against his firm skin, making you lightheaded with desire. You could feel the slick pouring out of you, calling to him, demanding he take you as his mate.

You could almost feel his heartbeat pounding out of his chest as he whispered so many sweet nonsensical phrases into your ears. Words he wasn’t ready for you to understand, and then the phrase.

“I do not want you to regret this.” His voice was barely a whisper,

“But I want you.” You mumble against his neck, allowing it to sink in. I want you, Alpha, no one else, every day. I want you to be my mate, I want you to fuck me, I want you to knot me.” With every phrase you kissed his neck, and at the end you grazed it with your teeth.

His reaction was immediate, literally immediate. The speedster was naked before you had time to really blink. You groaned when you saw him, ready and at attention, wanting so badly to just _have him_.

“I love you.” The words left his lips, as his hands roamed your body, your feverish skin welcoming the movements, you could only moan as he slid a finger into you, allowing you to arch against him. He pulled away much too soon, licking his finger clean.

You. Did. Not. Want. To. Be. Teased.

Which you made sure to express, whimpering at him as you allowed your legs to fall apart.

“Please” you weren’t too proud to bed. His hands met your hips, lining you both up. Yes, yes, yes. It was like slow motion as he sunk into you, leaving you a panting mess.

He started off slowly, too slow.

“Fast-ter” you stuttered, wrapping your legs around his waist, a brief thought crossing your mind that perhaps that was the first time anyone had ever had to tell him that.

He complied, speeding his thrusts. Your body felt like it was on fire. You had already cum once, being much too sensitive in your heat.

Now, now, every time he pulled out you could feel the knot catch, it made you moan, digging your fingernails into his back. He was close, you were closer.

You felt his mouth on your neck, sinking his teeth into you, marking you, bonding with you, mating with you. You stifled a scream, his name fell off of your lips, it almost didn’t sound like you saying it, you felt your body release and clench around him, as he filled you with his cum. His knot essentially connecting the two of you.

You felt complete and utter bliss.

“I love you too, Pietro.” He nuzzled your neck, licking the spot where he marked you, claimed you as his.

You would both have a lot of explaining to do when you went back to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For sassysashimi! Sorry it took so long, love! Hope you enjoy!


	16. Plenty of Time (Alpha!Bucky)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You could almost smell him in your dreams, drawing you down a path you knew you didn't want to escape.
> 
> Prompt: Alpha!Bucky

Soulmates weren’t a very ‘discussed’ part of life. Sure, they existed, sometimes, but not in the traditional idea. Not the way you had read in your fiction novels, not even in the way that you had seen combing through your dirty fanfiction. No there was no ticking clock, no magic words, no colors suddenly bursting into life.

There was only scent and an irrefutable attraction to that scent. Something so strong that no one could deny the gravitational pull it had.

The first time you truly understood what a soulmate was you were just a child yourself, perhaps eight or nine, on a diplomatic visit to the Russian Federation. Not your diplomatic mission, of course, but your father’s. He had always been protective of you, the youngest, the only girl, the omega, and always brought you and your mother on his trips when you were small.

There had been an explosion, an outbreak of violence not a-typical for the nation, and in the aftermath, while you were cowering with your mother, you caught the first whiff of a scent that would change your life.

It smelled like sugary funnel cake, something you had only eaten at carnivals, and something else. Something…acrid. But it spurred you into action, your mother having to literally hold you down to prevent you from running into the emptied square. You saw him anyway, a mask, a metal arm, and you were surprised when his ice-blue eyes found your own.

You knew in your child’s heart that the man was your soulmate, and you loved him instantly.

As you grew older, putting away the dreams of girlhood, the feeling never left you, it only changed. You joined Shield, a decision that shocked your parents, you put yourself on suppressants –heats were a pain, and you weren’t ready to settle down- and you became strong. Your adoration for a man you had seen only once, and committing an act of terrorism at that, shifted into an unwavering desire to find him. To know if it had all been some sort of fearful fever dream.

It hadn’t been.

The second time you met the man, he was shooting at you. You were elbow to elbow with Natasha Romanoff, when the scent hit you so strongly you were worried your suppressants would wear off right there. Sugary funnel cake and gun oil. You wrinkled your nose, almost disgusted at yourself for finding that combination so _mouthwatering_.

This was the man Natasha had called the Winter Soldier. When he pulled you back by your hair, you could see him searching your face, recognition there. It was like he was able to pick up what little scent you had left. You bit your lip, knowing your body would betray you if given much more time this way.

Luckily for you Steve Rogers was there to literally knock the man off of you.

To unmask him.

To add another dimension to this ordeal.

Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. Also known as Bucky, alias; the Winter Soldier, the asset.

A living breathing man from the 1940s, with a very beautiful, very sad face.

Your soulmate.

This complicated things. You knew well enough that the Captain would do everything in his power to protect his friend.

A sudden burst of an emotion you weren’t ready to name took over your body. You were glad the Captain was an Alpha. You had never asked him if he had been an omega or beta before the serum, honestly you didn’t want to know. But Bucky Barnes was your mate – well future mate- and you weren’t some lie down in the dirt Omega.

The emotion calmed itself almost immediately. Steve was your friend, Steve was an Alpha, and now that Shield had fallen apart, Steve was all you really had; well he and Natasha and Clint.

So you began working for the Avengers, you were good with computers, you could kick butt with the best of them. You also, on Bruce’s insistence, got off of suppressants. Apparently they were ‘bad for you’ which made you laugh. There were a lot of things bad for you. You still complied though, taking his words about your body chemistry to heart.

Off of suppressants though, things changed. Not necessarily in a bad way, but the Alpha of the group, Steve, became more protective of you. More likely to bench you for missions that you shouldn’t have been benched for. It was biology, you forgave him, but it was still frustrating. Luckily you had Clint, team Omega, to help you work through readjusting to your life at the literally bottom of the social pole.

And things were good. Until they weren’t. Until Ultron, until you received a very interesting anonymous tip.

The location of Bucky Barnes.

Tensions had run high at the tower after Ultron, and no one had gone on another mission yet. You knew you should tell them, or at least tell Steve, but something was holding you back.

Was it jealousy? Were you worried he wouldn’t let you be involved? No. It was just a feeling. A feeling of dread that you took very seriously.

You’d find Bucky on your own.

So you told Nat and Steve that you’d be taking a few weeks’ vacation, immediately abandoned your tech at your apartment, picked up a burner phone and hopped a plane to Bucharest.

You were going to find your soulmate.

_________

Bucharest was bustling. You noted with a frown. You had only a rudimentary grasp on Romanian, something you picked up from your days as a diplomat’s daughter. All you really could rely on was a photo of a man that was so familiar to you, although you had never truly met him, and your nose.

You made a face.

When had you decided to become a bloodhound?

You sighed, flopping back on the bed of your hotel room.

It was going to be a long week.

________

That damn coffee shop. You sighed, sitting outside of it like you had every day for the last week. You weren’t feeling well, knowing that your heat would be setting in in a day or so filled you with abject horror. You were not exactly known for rational heat decisions, and you doubted Bucharest was a good place for a hook up.

It hit you like a freight train.

You had to stifle a moan that rose from your throat. An Alpha in rut. Your Alpha. Your eyes tore from person to person, trying to find him. Before landing on a baseball cap just up ahead at a little fruit market.

Your man.

You stood up, your feet carrying you quickly. He would be skittish; you’d have to be quick.

What was an alpha in rut doing outside anyway?

He turned to you before you could get to him, nostrils flaring, you felt a spasm in your midsection.

This beautiful jerk was sending you into heat just by being there.

Time seemed to slow down as you stepped over to him, his little bag of fruit clutched in his hands like a vice.

“Sergeant Barnes” Your voice was a whisper as you grabbed his hand. When your flesh met his he froze, and so did you. You looked into his bright eyes, the deep circles underneath.

“Omega.” His voice was smooth, deep, he looked you up and down even as you flushed, a soft whine leaving your mouth. He held your eyes with his own, a sort of primal stare that left you weak. You felt yourself shrink under his gaze, an unconscious reaction to a dominant alpha. “My Omega.” He continued, sweeping you off of your feet, carrying you out of the marketplace. You gasped, wrapping your legs around his waist, burying your face into his neck, scenting him for that familiar smell, the smell that had haunted your dreams since you were a little girl.

__________

The apartment was small, windows covered in news-clippings, advertisements and the like. An ideal place for someone who was hiding out. Which, of course, he was. He dropped you onto the mattress unceremoniously, earning a soft yelp from you. He frowned, searching your face for any sign of pain. By this point you had turned uncomfortably warm, the heat making you drip.

Bucky was quick to pick up on your physiological changes, dropping his head into the crook of your neck, a moan leaving his throat. You sighed, lolling your head to the side to allow him better access.

“Alpha” You crooned, pushing at his shirt, a whine leaving your lips. You were so _hot_. You needed him. You needed him to do something.

He pulled up your dress, one fluid motion, leaving your hot skin exposed to the world.

“Alpha, Bucky, need you. Too many…clothes.” Bucky paused, removing his shirt as you tugged off your bra, using what was left of your energy to push your slick coated underwear off of your body.

“Doll.” He panted, undoing the buckle of his pants, removing his pants with a military grade efficiently. “Doll you smell so damn good.” He was half-mumbling. “’m gonna give you my knot, gonna knot you real well. It’s going to feel-“ He cut short, a groan leaving his lips as you brushed your hand against him. He was talking too much. You needed your alpha, now. You bucked your hips against his.

“Shit, Omega.” He cursed, pulling away, making you groan in frustration. “Present yourself.” Oh..Oh. His tone had darkened, promise dripping from his words as you eagerly rolled onto your stomach, pressing your face against the pillows, pushing your backside into the air, allowing your legs to spread just enough for access. Bucky sighed, a noise he himself hadn’t heard since the 1940’s, a sigh of desire, of knowing.

“I remember you” he breathed, lining his body up with yours. “I remember you from Russia, when you were so young, I remember you from D.C., they tried to erase it, but I always remembered you. Your scent, like icecream in the summer, I used to get them all the time, all the time at Coney Island.” He pushed into your eager body, so lubricated it barely hurt. You gasped and sighed, clutching the sheets with your fingers. He was moving, slow enough to make your body quiver with need.

“Alpha, more, I need- ugh” Bucky’s metal arm gripped your hip, his other coming up to massage your clit. You whimpered happily, pressing up against him as he leaned his body close to yours. His breath on your neck.

“So tight, so good for me, my omega. _My omega_.” He was panting, you were panting, so close. You could feel his knot starting to swell. He moved his teeth to your neck, sinking into the tender flesh, claiming you as his own. It was forever, forever with a man you didn’t know at all, forever with a man you had always loved. You gasped, falling off the precipice, taking him with you. He locked himself inside of you, peppering kisses along the mark he had just made. You felt your knees weaken as he carefully moved your body, shifting so that he laid beside you, conscious of your very entangled state.

“Wow.” You panted.

“Wow.” He repeated, looking at you with adoration, with more than his fair share of guilt.

“We have some catching up to do, no?” You snuggled against his body, encouraging him to wrap his arms, both metal and flesh, around you.

“Plenty of time to do it, doll.” You snorted as he kissed your cheek.

“Plenty of time.” You repeated back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Shinoko, hope you like it! <3 I definitely got into this one.


	17. Art Supplies (Pre-Serum!Steve)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was too cute, and you had a jealousy streak a mile wide
> 
> prompt: You should do more pre-serum Steve fluff! Stuff like this where he's all nervous and blushy

You sighed, staring up at the rainclouds forming above your head. You hoped it wouldn’t rain today. Stepping into the shop, you took off your coat, hanging it up and moving to take your place behind the counter. You were happy enough to work at your father’s shop, but you wouldn’t be happy for much longer if it rained and you had to go home during the downpour.

It was a bookstore, it sold art supplies, it was a miracle that you got down on your knees during mass every Sunday to give thanks for. Nothing stayed open now a-days, even with the war in Europe. You quietly sighed, straightening the counter as best you could. Your father worked odd jobs outside of the store, in order to keep it and your family afloat, which often left you and your sisters working the front, especially since all three of your older brothers had decided to enlist, and the youngest boy, Robbie, was only 12 and couldn’t have fought if he wanted to.

A ding as the door open broke you from your thoughts and immediately presented you with another problem; Steve Rogers.

Steve Rogers was as poor as dirt and as beautiful as a pure white lily. You were head-over-heels for this boy and had absolutely no idea what to do about it. He wasn’t spoken for, you knew that, but he was just so _shy_. You didn’t want to misinterpret him, was all. Even if he stood there with his long artist’s fingers and his thin as a beanpole frame, with those easily flushed cheeked and pretty lips just waiting to be kissed-

“U-Uh” You could hear him stutter so you looked up, your eyes meeting his with a deliberate sweetness, happy enough to see the red rise to his cheeks immediately.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite costumer!” You laughed as you stepped out from behind the counter. “What brings you to me today, Stevie?” You threw your arms around his waist, drawing him into a hug. You were both alone, allowing you to slip away from the propriety that ruled your everyday life. He blushed scarlet, letting his arms circle you loosely.

“I-I. uh, I, well…the pencils.” He finally managed to cough out, pulling away from you with enough speed to make you pout.

“Pencils?” You cocked your head to the side, allowing your body to lean against his.

“Y-Yes, doll, the pencils, I ordered, f-from your sister, from M-Mary-Anne.” Mary-Anne? Your blood rose to your face, but not in a blush, so much as a fury. Annie knew you liked this boy, and you knew she wasn’t above taking him just to spite you.

“Oh, pencils. For your drawings?” You asked, noting the book he had in his hand, a sketchbook you were sure of it.

“Yeah, I’m getting a little low on paper, so I may get some more of that too.” His hand skimmed the small of your back as you looked at his blue-green eyes. You wanted to kiss him on the mouth, you wanted him before she got to him.

“Do you like her?” You part from him abruptly, missing his look of confusion. You walk back behind the desk bending over to try and find his order.

“Who?” He could tell you were upset, and so he took a step towards you, perhaps hoping to placate you.

“My sister?”

“Oh well she is a nice gal and a-“

“She’s nice, huh? Here I was thinking that you were just sweet for me, but apparently any one of us will do.” You handed him his pencils, your voice was tittering, amused almost, but your eyes were serious and hurt. You were jealous, and there wasn’t a thing you could do about it.

He frowned, his hand finding your own over the counter.

“I would think you know me better than that by now.” He seemed braver all the sudden, and you paused to look at him.

“Know you how, Stevie?” Your voice was barely as whisper as you leaned over the counter, your face inching closer to his.

“kn-know me well enough to know that my eyes are only for you, doll.” His blush returned, and he looked to the side, unable to meet your eyes. You took that opportunity to hoist yourself onto the counter, turning so that your legs hung to either side of his waist, letting your hands rest on his cheeks.

“D’ya mean that, Steve?” You all but cooed, drawing his face to your own, relishing the deep red he turned.

“O-Of course.” So you kissed him, a sweet, firm kiss with all your love and hope in it.

You knew he’d understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For SkyeOakenshield, hope you enjoy!


	18. A Wrinkle in Time (Omega!PreSerum!Steve Rogers)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Years later, you were both shocked at how you still looked the same.
> 
> Prompt: Hello there, if it's not too much trouble would write a pre-serum steve x reader A/B/O fic. One where Steve is either an omega and the f!reader is an alpha. I'm just a sucker for cute sub steve.

You stepped firmly down the sidewalk, your heels clacking as you made you way to an unfamiliar door. You had been looking for so long, trying to find him. You fiddled with your dress, sighing thoughtfully, it had been so long since you had seen him. Since he had shipped off, leaving you to pine for him back home. You had become a nurse, in part to find him, more than shocked to see him so different in the theaters, and it had brought you to him.

It was time for you to find Steve Rogers.

You took a breath, you hand finding the doorknob, a sudden fear jolting through you.

You wondered if he would still feel the same?

A memory caught you, pulled you back to before, before he had left, and it made your breath catch.

__________

_It was night time, and you knew your mother would have been worried if she knew you stayed out much later. Not that she had much to worry about. You had moved into your own apartment a month ago, living in an all-girls complex, it gave you freedom you hadn’t known you wanted._

_Freedom as an Alpha you needed._

_You were tantamount to an untouchable, an Alpha, a female Alpha. Less common than your male counterparts, of course, but just as fierce. You could walk the streets at night without much worry of a threat, even if you were shorter than your friends and family._

_And on this night in particular, simmering rage, you were a force to be reckoned with. You’d spent half the night protecting your friends from those damn soldiers, and having to play the role of simpering girl to get tips at the diner._

_Life was hard for a young lady._

_You perked up, a sound reaching your ears, like a punch being delivered. Then a scent, a pheromone. An omega in trouble? A sound left your throat not unlike a growl as you sprinted to the alley way where two men had a boy around your age cornered. One beta, one Alpha. Their intentions not yet know, although you could imagine what an Alpha would want from a helpless omega._

_You snarled, drawing attention to yourself, enjoying the brief look of fear in the Beta’s eyes. Your hand snaps out, grabbing his arm, tightening his grip._

_“I suggest you leave before this gets messy.” You drawled, releasing him and relishing the way he ran off._

_Just you and the other Alpha._

_Traditionally when two Alpha males met like this, it would end in blood, but you were a woman and you could see him sizing you up. Thinking you were weak._

_“What’s a dame like you doing out in a place like this.” He starts, looming over you, expecting you to cower. You don’t, only widening your stance, hands on your hips, eyes locked to his._

_“I dunno, probably waitin’ for scum like you to appear so I can teach you a lesson about bullying.” You sigh, appearing as bored as you can. This guy was all talk, you could tell._

_“This your omega, then?” He responded quietly, stepping aside so you could see the young man, pretty blond hair, eyes as blue as the sky on a warm day. “’Cause if so, you aren’t doing a very good job of keeping him in his place.” He picked the boy up by his hair, as though he was trying to prove something to you both of you._

_So you kicked him. Right where it hurt. He dropped blondie and fell on his knees, giving you ample time to punch him square in the jaw, pressing a foot onto his stomach as he laid sprawled on the ground. You bared your teeth, primal urges taking over, watching him cower._

_“You’re going to leave this Omega alone, hear me?” You started, digging your heel in for good measure. “And I’m not going to see you botherin’ anyone else, got it?”_

_He whimpered._

_Good._

_“Scram.” You stepped off of him, watching him scramble away, before turning your attentions to the young man in front of you._

_“Hi.” You wave at him, giving him your name._

_“S-Steve, Steve Rogers.” He mumbles back, his face flushed red. He smells so good, you realize, like fresh baked cookies and nutmeg. Delectable. That is the word you would use._

_“Nice to meet you Steve.” You grinned at him brightly, holding your hand out for him to take. You helped him up easily and immediately released him. You knew he was unclaimed, but you didn’t want him to feel any pressure from you. It was dangerous for a boy like him to be out this late on this part of town._

_He gave you an appreciative look, which only served to make your smile widen._

_One drop of rain fell, then two, you looked up. “My apartment is only a five-minute hustle from here, let me patch you up?” He nodded, letting you drag him along, pulling him into your apartment, a soft smile on his face._

_____________

You walked up the stairs, your eyes sliding back and forth with anxiety, it had taken a lot for them to believe you, to believe that Steve Rogers was your Omega, well, had been your omega. Who knows how he felt now.

All those changes.

You were led into a room, the nice woman telling you that he would “be just a moment.” You sighed.

This wasn’t the same as Brooklyn, that was for sure.

____________

_He had shown up at your doorstep a mess. Although that was the norm for Rogers, you determined. Hair disheveled, lips bruised, and….in heat._

_You had been brought to pause, staring at him with wide eyes, looking him over for any signs of distress._

_“Stevie, oh omega” You had cooed, drawing him close to you, allowing him to scent you. He had moaned pitifully, igniting a fire in the pit of your stomach that you weren’t sure how to quench._

_He was holding a box, which he set to the side the minute he walked in. You looked at it curiously as you cautiously scented him, trying to see if he had perhaps been accosted by another alpha, or by some bully of a beta. Nothing._

_“What’s the matter, are you okay, did something happen?” You asked, all at once. Looking him over, noting his shaking hands, and feverish look._

_Had he come here because of his heat?_

_“A-Alpha, p-please.” He stuttered, making you sigh. He was looking at you with his beautiful blue eyes, tears forming quickly. He had come to you in his heat._

_You felt your desire peak, an immediate physiological change that had the Omega quivering under your gaze._

_“Shush **Omega**.” You pressed a finger to your lips, gratified at how quickly he calmed down, casting his eyes to the ground. Your hands found his face, tilting it up again. “What is it you need from me?”_

_“I need you **, Alpha** , need you to..” He trailed off, a violent red tinting his cheeks. He was beautiful flushed like that. You pressed your lips to his slowly, hummed against them as he tangled his fingers in your hair. His body pressed to yours in an instant, trying to fill his void._

_Eager._

_You were tugging him to the bedroom when he stopped, hopping over to the box and bringing it to you. “F-For you, t-to, well-“ You opened it, eyes widening, shaking your head to yourself. The boy had brought you a toy, his toy. You laughed softly._

_“I’m glad you had a way to get off before you met me, Stevie.” You smirked as he looked away, tugging at your heartstrings._

_“But I want…I want you to.” He began as you kissed him again._

_“I know Stevie, I’ll take care of you. Real good care, alright baby?” You led him to your bed, allowing yourself to watch him. “Now I need you to take off your clothes.” You adopted your Alpha tone, knowing that was what he needed. He nodded shyly, unbuttoning his shirt slowly, sliding it off and revealing his skinny frame. You let out a pleased sigh as he finished his task, folding his clothes and setting them down. “Such a perfect Omega.” You breathed against his ear, feeling his stiffen in your hand. “All for me.” He nodded as you placed bruising kisses against his neck, moaning when you reached that particular spot. Your eyes met his, an unspoken question._

_He nodded._

_A thrill went through you, something you’d save for later._

_“Tell me what you want, Stevie. Tell me what you need me to do.” You were pumping him languidly, enjoying the way his head fell back, and how his knees wanted to buckle._

_“I want ‘you” He slurred, his hands grasping at your hips, pulling your dress up-_

_“Ah.” You tsked at him, feeling his hands freeze. “That’s not very polite.” You backed away from him, his whimpering making you immediately rethink your choices. Every bit of you was aching to shove him down and have your way with him. But you had to take it slow, had to fill his void. You pulled your dress up off of your head, and shimmied your undergarments off, allowing him to watch the show._

_“You sure you want me first? I just wanna make you feel good. You are such a good boy, my omega.” You purred at him, as he arched his back, shutting his eyes in ecstasy at your praise._

_You wondered if you could make him lose it just by words alone._

_You joined him on the bed, lying flat beside him. He rolled over, sliding his thin body between your hips._

_“Please.” He half moaned. “Please touch me.” His urges winning out. You laughed quietly, sitting up, looking at him with half-lidded eyes. “Well then present yourself, Omega.” You moved your body, picking up the box and once again having to stifle a laugh. He made sure to include Vaseline too._

_The boy was prepared, at least._

_You set to work, coating the toy liberally. You had your fair share of encounters with omega boys, although none had ever meant this much to you. You knew it was different for them, for the omegas, they were caught, their purity being one of their greatest assets._

_When you turned back, he was lying face first in the pillow, his hips thrust into the air, cock throbbing just in your view._

_You coat your own fingers in the slick substance, running your other hand down his back, even as he whined, bucking his hips against you._

_You tugged his hair, smirking at the moan that left his lips._

_“Behave, Stevie.” You cooed, releasing his hair and moving your hand to his hip to stabilize him. You started working him open with your slickened fingers, first one and then two. His beautiful, frail body flushed pink with need. You crooked your fingers, eliciting a gasp from the panting omega. You pulled away words of praise tumbling from your lips as you reached for the toy. You took a moment to let him settle his breathing, planting a kiss on the small of his back._

_“Do you want this?” You asked, giving him one last opportunity. He was hot, sweating like it was a summer’s day in the south, and you were unsurprised to hear him._

_“P-Please, I want it to be you, only you, I love you.” Those words left you breathless, **he loved you**. He loved you._

_“I love you too, Steven Grant Rogers. So much.” You worked the toy in slowly, as his pants turned into gasps, until it was resting and he was crying out, his cock leaking precum as you began to thrust the toy in and out of him. He buried his face deeper into the pillows as you began to pump him at the same pace._

_“A-Ah, I’m going to-“_

_“Its alright, Stevie, you can cum, be a good omega and cum for me.”_

_“B-But I want, I-I want-“ You knew exactly what he wanted. You stilled your movements, leaving him whining, slowly removing the toy you turned him over on his back. Pumping him again, faster this time, you leaned up placing your mouth on his neck, feeling his body tense, you sunk your teeth into his neck. Marking him, claiming him as yours. Yours forever._

_For as long as he wanted you._

__________

You looked the same, you knew. It didn’t make sense, but perhaps it was fate. Fate wanted you to find Steve Rogers again, and pick up where you left off. You knew from the moment you joined the army, as a nurse, it would lead you back to him eventually.

You heard the door open, a familiar smell tingling your nose.

Fresh cookies and nutmeg.

“Stevie.” You breathed, turning to face him. So different from the slight young man you had seen off to war.

Still so young, even after all these years.

He was at your side in a moment, picking you up in his strong arms, burying his face into your neck. His whole body was trembling. You smiled softly as he set you down, wonder on his face.

“You haven’t aged a day.” He whispered, clear disbelief on his face.

“My mark is still there.” You whispered, pressing your hand to his neck, watching the tears form in his eyes.

“You’re my alpha.” He stated, as though that was the only information you needed. “I love you.”

You exhaled, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

“I love you too, my omega.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For nightdragon. This ended up really capturing my imagination. Hope you like it!
> 
> Some fun facts:
> 
> Vaseline was invented in 1933.
> 
> Sex toys have been around FOREVER. I figured that the 1930's-1940's were still pretty prudish (I know they were actually) So I stayed away from too much detail in that area, but for as long as man has been able to master tools, so too has man been able to make dildos.


	19. Interesting Events (Evil!T'Challa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things weren't so bad, you reasoned. You were starting to like it, you thought. 
> 
> Prompt:1. Can you do one t'challa teaches you a lesson about being disobedient. 2.Can you do another Evil! T'Challa fix where he brainwashes the reader into actually believing that his dictatorship is a good thing.

You gasped, bucking your hips, a yelp leaving your throat.

It had been like this for what felt like days, but was in fact only hours. He was ‘punishing’ you, you thought wirily. What an odd way to be punished. His fingers, so strong when they wrapped around your throat, when pushing into you, rubbing against your clit, bringing you to the precipice and not letting you fall.

He said he was punishing you.

His lips hot on your neck, his teeth grazing over your sensitive nipples. Teaching you a lesson. Only obedient pets received pleasure, only good kittens could find their release.

And you had been a very bad kitten.

Sometimes you felt like you were in school again, felt like he was a stern educator. He walked you through it all, Wakanda’s mission, to better the world however it saw fit. People weren’t able to govern themselves, he’d explain as you struggled to maintain your steady breathing, as his hands ran over your shoulders, as he pushed his body against you, rewarding you when you were good.

Damn if you didn’t want to be good. Good so that he would reward you because when he did…it was amazing, it made you feel like you had never felt before, wanted, pampered, cared for like you had never been before.

It was odd because you knew you should be disgusted, you should be trying your best to resist, but you didn’t want to.

T’Challa wasn’t a bad king, he was a good king. Perhaps dictator would have been the better word to use, but whatever it was he was good at it. His people didn’t suffer.

It was better, you thought at times, than your own nation’s chaotic government system.

“T’Challa” You groaned tugging at the restraints, the soft material digging into your wrists. “Please.”

“Ah, my kitten. What is it you desire?” he smirked at you, pressing a kiss to your stomach.

“Your Highness, I just…please, I n-need to cum.” There it was out in the open, your body was trembling, you were shaking so hard you wondered how he could stand to even look at you, a mess.

If this man was truly a benevolent king, he’d give you the release you so desperately needed.

His hands met the soft flesh of your thighs as he gave you a hungry look.

“Whatever you desire it is my pleasure to grant.”

You couldn’t stop the shudder that ran down your body at the thought.

__________

You sat, hands folded over your lap, the soft material of your dress smooth under your hand. Today you’d be good, you reasoned, your hands tensing over the fabric a soft smirk on your lips. Realizing the dress would wrinkle you brought one hand up to your neck, brushing softly over the soft pendant that rested there.

You’d been captive for eight months. Eight, and odd and final number to you. You had expected him to tire of you, to perhaps get rid of you after a few months, certainly after you had capitulated. He hadn’t. No the king had kept you. Had kept you and had talked to you, had grown closer to you, or so you reasoned. He hadn’t followed through on his desire to make you work as a spy in Hydra, no, he had only pulled you closer.

You had attendants now, two pretty girls that brushed your hair and helped you dress. Strange additions for a captive.

Were you a captive? The people you passed in the hallway looked at you with a semblance of awe, as though they could not believe the heights to which you had risen, couldn’t believe you had found favor with T’Challa.

The Good King, they called him, you shook your head. A great king, you corrected in your mind. Perhaps not an ethical king, but a great one.

When he walked in you cocked your head to the side, a silent question. He had called you into the throne room, ordering that you be dressed a certain way, escorted.

As you rose, bowing at his entry, he seemed to look you over, pleased with the result.

You sat back down as he sat, trying to maintain your composure. What exactly did he want? Surely he wouldn’t rid himself of you so publicly?

“As King of this nation, I have duties.” He began, looking around the room. “One of these duties I have yet to fulfill. I seek to remedy that.” He took a step down from his throne, stepping over to you.

“As you all know; I will be married within the year.” Yes, to a woman that wasn’t you. Was he dismissing you because of her? His hands found your neck, tilting your head up. His eyes held amusement…and something else. “A king must marry for duty, and in doing so enters a contract with a stranger. A king must also have children.” He brushed at your cheek. “We cannot speculate as to the success I will have with my Queen, so I will take precautions.” Precautions? You looked at him, at his intimate position with you in front of his court. “I will bring back an ancient custom of Kings. I will take this woman as my concubine to help further the line of my father.” An audible gasp rose through the crowd as your eyes widened.

Concubine.

You knew enough of basic history to know that you would always be less than the Queen, but also, he wanted you. He wanted to keep you. A smile rose to your lips, and he gave you a smirk. He was a smart man, your king.

He was saying that he felt something for you, he hadn't mentioned love, perhaps he wasn't capable. You'd take whatever you could get. At this point you couldn't imagine your world anywhere else but with him. He pressed a kiss to your forehead a gesture he toned down for the crowd. 

You were happy, weren't you?

You thought so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHH sorry it has been so long. My teeth. My poor, poor teeth. Having your wisdom teeth pulled is a real pain, literally. 
> 
> For Tastethewind and CUPCAKEQUEEN my very very patient darlings. Hope you enjoy.


	20. Soulmates II (Steve Rogers)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I don’t pretend to know  
> The challenges you’re facing  
> The worlds you keep erasing and creating in your mind
> 
> But I’m not afraid  
> I know who I married  
> So long as you come home at the end of the day  
> That would be enough" - Hamilton, An American Musical

You were laying on your side, curled up against your husband. Your husband, sometimes thinking of it still left you in awe. It had been a quick courtship, three months, unsurprising considering you were literally made for one another and things had been good, great at times, other times not so great. Getting to know another person, especially one from another era, had been challenging at times for the two of you. But you made it through.

Your hand reached up to brush against his chest, the place where his soulmate mark sat.

You loved Steve Rogers more than you ever thought it would have been possible to love another person. More often than not that knowledge left you feeling euphoric, however tonight for several reasons it had you feeling terrified.

You knew he would be leaving soon. You knew he had to go, that…that thing that Stark had created, it was dangerous and it had to be stopped but dammit at the end of the day Steven Grant Rogers was just a human, and humans could die.

He stirred in his sleep as you pulled your hand away from him, pressing it over your mouth in an effort to put up a wall between you and your emotions. Tears pressed at your eyes, and you sniffled, only a little. Enough to wake him, maybe. You knew that your bond had to be radiating your emotions, and Steve was sensitive to how you felt. He had been from the beginning.

Even the smallest change over the connection you shared had him glancing at you, whether happy or sad. Sometimes, even when you were at work, a soft sigh of irritation on your lips at the amount of paperwork Stark had you working on, he’d shoot you a text, something cheerful and encouraging.

He was the best of men and best of lovers. He was yours.

He rolled over, tugging your hand from your mouth easily, brushing the tears out of your eyes and pulling you close.

“What’s wrong, doll?” He was oddly alert for someone who had been sound asleep not seconds earlier. You buried your face into his chest, whimpering softly as he sat up, taking you with him.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” He began again, tilting your tear stained face up to meet his own. You could feel his concern without having to see it in his eyes, but you looked anyway.

“I’m scared.” You whispered, hearing how pitiful your voice sounded. He nodded, never one to dismiss your feelings, he pulled you into his lap, his large frame seeming to shelter you from the outside world. “I’m scared about what is going to happen.” You tried again, your voice louder. “I can’t lose you, Steve.”

“If I could grant you peace of mind.” He whispered, his mouth against your ear. “I would. I would give you anything. But I won’t make a promise I can’t keep, doll.”

“Just stay alive, and that would be enough.” He didn’t respond, he only kissed you soundly, his mouth warm against yours, you responded eagerly.

“I need you to come back to me alive, Steve. You hear me?” You said again. “Please.”

And his lips found your neck and his reply was lost against the sound of your moans as your body found purchase on the bed and his skin met yours.

_________

Anxiety, nervousness. You paced back and forth.

He was fine.

He was coming home.

He was _safe._

You clutched your hands together, stilling your movements. Breathe. In and out. In and out.

You didn’t meet him like you usually did, at the Avengers facility. You needed to talk to him alone, one on one.

The door opened.

“Steve.” You cried, falling into his waiting arms, relief radiating off of you. He hoisted you up, carrying you to the couch.

“I missed you, doll.” His face was pressed into your neck and you could feel the pain inside of him, the guilt.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He shook his head, no. You pressed your palm over his pectoral muscle, over his mark. “Alright, we don’t have to tonight.” Your own trepidation wouldn’t have allowed you much inroad anyway.

“Steve.” You began. Your voice trailing off as he looked at you. “Steve, I…I have to tell you something.”

He was all attention now, you knew your tone didn’t help, his hands gripped yours almost painfully.

“What’s wrong, babe?”

“No, No, nothing’s wrong…its good news, I think.” You looked down, suddenly shy.

“I…we…we are…I’m pregnant.” You finally spit out, feeling his body freeze. You could feel the steady panic in the back of your throat as he didn’t respond. Worry eating at you.

“We’re having a baby?” You nodded at his wonder, smiling into his soft kiss. “I’m going to be a father?”

“You are.” You rested your body against him, so relieved to have the information out.

“How long have you known?” His voice was so, so soft as his hand travelled to your stomach, pushing up your shirt and resting there. It was only a small bump, barely noticeable to anyone but you, well now you and him.

“Not so long, I found out a week before you left.” He looked up at you, eyes sharp.

“You should have told me.” His voice was reproachful. You sighed.

“I know.” You admitted “I was scared, I didn’t want to tell you and then have you leave right after. I…I couldn’t handle it.” He cupped your face with his hands, kissing you again, forgiving you easily.

“We’re going to be parents.” He grinned, a soft laugh leaving his lips, his body bustling with energy.

“Parents” You smiled at him. “Parents to a little bean.” You looked at him, noting his far-off gaze, reaching for his hand. “And if this child has a fraction of your kindness or a fragment of your heart, that would be enough.” His eyes widened at your comment, joy rushing through your bond, you could see the misty look in his eyes.

And you were satisfied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHH my Hamilton-filled sequel that quenched my thirst for both Steve Rogers and the musical soundtrack.


	21. Unspoken feelings (Bucky Barnes)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of course he had to take the easy way out.

You had a feeling that something was wrong with Sergeant Barnes. You sighed, jotting down a few notes in your notebook.

King T’Challa had asked that you monitor these avengers and you were eager to comply. As the daughter of a noble family in the region you wanted to make a name for yourself separate from your parents. This was your chance.

Everyone seemed as normal as they could be, from the captain to Ms. Maximoff, the only one that still threw you for a loop was Sergeant Barnes.

He alternated between periods of something you’d describe as catatonia, staring at empty walls for hours at a time, before coming back to life, a forced smile on his face.

He would reminisce with Steve, try to joke with Wanda.

It wasn’t real.

At times he glanced at his metal arm, his face contorted in an emotion akin to disgust.

You knew things must be hard for him. A man truly out of time. You also knew he wanted to go under.

You didn’t like that idea.

Perhaps it was because of the looks you sometimes felt him give you, or the contrast of the cool metal of his arm against your warm flesh. Maybe it was the late night talks you sometimes had with him, catching him up on the future, on your culture.

He had told you about segregation in the United States in the 1930s, and you could only shake your head, marveling at how a nation could betray its own in such a manner. You couldn’t imagine a world where you and Sergeant Barnes couldn’t be seen together.

He always looked at you with such sad eyes.

Perhaps what you felt for him was deeper than what it should have been.

You sighed.

It didn’t matter, today was the day. He had decided to freeze himself.

You could feel something in your heart tearing, even as you walked down the long corridor, desperate to find something reasonable to hold on to.

Desperate to keep yourself from naming your feelings.

Desperate enough to not see the person in front of you, or to react in time to stop yourself from running straight into them.

“Whoa there, doll.” Bucky Barnes’s voice cuts your thoughts off, even as he steadies your body.

“I-I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.” You pull yourself away from him, unable to meet his eyes.

“You alright?”

“Oh, yes, yes I am fine.” You manage to stutter.

“Are you sure? I mean, you don’t look okay, doll.” Why did he have to make this so hard.

“I’m fine, James, honestly.” You patted his arm, walking past him quickly, well trying to, he grabbed your arm, tugging you into his bedroom. “What are you doing?”

“Please don’t lie to me.” His tone has changed, before it had been neutral, but now it sounded like he was begging. “You’re the only one who hasn’t lied to me yet, doll.” Your heart broke for him, like it had so many times before.

“I’m just sad, James.”

“What about.” You met his eyes, finally, trying to communicate your feelings.

“I’m upset about you.”

He sighs, tugging your body to his, his hands tangling in your hair.

“You’re tearing me up, babe.”

“I could say the same thing about you.”

And he kissed you.

What were you going to do about Bucky Barnes?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For PrincessAnon, sorry for the wait,
> 
> So So sorry everyone, I work in an office and fell really behind with my surgery, so I've been making up paperwork and I am so drained at the end of the day I can't even imagine typing, luckily I am almost completely caught up.


	22. Elevator Magic (Tony Stark)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He said you smelled like you had rolled around in a field.
> 
> God, why did you like this guy? 
> 
> Prompt: Could you do a Soulmate or A/B/O with Steve or Tony, please? :-)

Tony Stark.

You groaned.

That damned Stark was going to be the death of you. You were typing furiously, knowing you’d have to have the story settled and done in less than an hour.

You wished the asshole would have been kind enough to at least not get into trouble, but no, why have a PR team if you weren’t going to use them.

Not to mention that you had to deal with the damn Alphas in this place. Your mother, your sainted beta mother, had always told you that too many Alphas was like putting too many roosters in a henhouse…you get no eggs.

One of them, an attorney for Mr. Stark, had the gall to snarl at you this afternoon, trying to exert his dominance.

Every bit of your body had screamed cower, as your omega biology was wont to do. You were stronger than that, however, and you held your ground, allowing a soft growl to leave your own throat.

He wasn’t YOUR Alpha. You didn’t have to listen to him.

You were nobody’s Omega to bully, that was for damn sure. You had written him up for harassment not even an hour later. It was the 21st century! There were laws against that in the workplace nowadays.

You ran a hand through your hair, biting at your lip.

That fucker.

You huffed as a familiar scent filled your office, something you had to pretend you didn’t absolutely love, the smell of fresh bread covered by the scent of machine oil. You tossed your head back as the brazen man leaned forward, scenting you easily. You fought to keep your body calm.

“To what do I own the honor, Mr. Stark.”

“Have I ever told you that you are the best smelling Omega I have ever met?” He smirked, leaning against your desk as you eyed him wearily. “Also, I think I told you that I wouldn’t pay you if you didn’t start calling me Tony. Mr. Stark was my father.”

You frowned.

“Tony.” You began again, a warning in your tone.

“Seriously, you smell like lavender, like you’ve been rolling in a field all day.” He grinned, uncrossing his arms and placing them onto the desk.

“Anthony Stark, you did not come here to insinuate I smell like a damn field.” You push your chair away from the desk. “Get to the point, I have to finish this article for the paper, so that people can be reminded that you are a charity donor and not some millionaire play-boy with a new girl on your arm every week.”

“Oh come on. That’s not fair.”

“You broke up with an ambassador’s daughter over text message, Tony, it’s become an international incident.”

“Are you jealous? Because I was hoping this one would make you jealous. I’d love to take you out sometime, you know I think we’d be good for each other, I’m fun and you are…you.”

“Tony!” You stood up, trying to fight the blush forming on your cheeks. “Why. Are. You. Here?”

“He’s fired, I just wanted you to know.” Tony stands, his face taking a more serious caste. “I’ve never tolerated that, you know, I’m glad you reported him, sometimes I know Omegas don’t feel like they can and-“

“Tony.” Your voice was softer this time, he was rambling apologetically, something you didn’t often see from the brilliant man. Sarcasm was much more his forte. “I always knew I could report this sort of thing to you, and you didn’t let me down.” You patted his arm gingerly, ignoring the electricity that seemed to course through your veins when you touched him. “So…thank you.”

He smirked again, the moment gone.

“You think I did well enough to earn myself a date?”

“Stark!”

As he jogged out he turned at the door.

“That wasn’t a no, was it?” and you didn’t respond.

But it wasn’t a no. Not at all.

Sometimes you just wished he was easier to read. If he was serious…You’d take him up on his offer.

___________

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

You were late. You were late for you meeting with Tony. You had never been late for anything in the office. You bounded into the hall, furiously tapping the elevator button.

You had been late because your heat was about to start, you had woken up groggy, a familiar pain forming in your stomach.

Not a big deal.

Heats were easy for you, a blessing that many Omegas weren’t given. Sometimes you wondered if something was…wrong with you. Doctors had assured you that you were fine, nothing seemed to be off, every Omega was different.

It didn’t comfort you, you felt like an anomaly, not left bedridden for days, just mildly discomfited, barely an omega at all. You sighed.

Today you could still work, you’d have to take a few days off though, part of the reason you needed to meet with Stark.

The elevator opened and you jogged in, not even noticing your companion. You dropped your head clutching and unclutching your fingers.

“You alright there?” You jumped.

Speak of the devil.

“Tony.” You turned to him, blinking incredulously. “Here I was worried I’d be late to our meeting. Looks like I’m right on time.” He smirked, sniffing the air.

“You want to take a few days off?”

“Ah, you caught me, Tony. I made sure to get ahead. I’d hate to distract the Alphas around here the next few days, can’t have you having to fire your entire staff.”

Before he could reply the elevator shook, sending you careening into the superhero. He grabbed onto you, cushioning your tumble to the ground.

The lights flickered ominously around you as you gasped, unsure of what was going on. You curled your body naturally against the alpha, pressing your face against his neck and scenting him for the comfort you knew it would provide.

He held you to him. His body oddly stiff against your own pliable form. When the elevator stopped shaking you pulled away from him.

“I-I’m sorry Tony, it just spooked me.” You scrambled away, a heavy blush on your cheeks. The like pain in your stomach had increased exponentially around the very tempting Alpha. You winced softly.

“Jarvis what just happened?” Tony demanded as the lights continued to flicker.

“Well, sir, you took an older elevator, it appears as though it has gotten stuck.”

“Stuck? Nothing I make gets stuck Jarvis.”

“Nothing until now, sir.”

“How long until its fixed?”

“An hour at least, sir.” He cursed under his breath, muttering something about it being too long.

“Thanks Jarvis.” The sarcasm was evident.

“Shit.” You groaned, settling yourself down on the floor, you did not need this at all.

Tony was pacing, agitation clear on his features. There was something…off. What was off?

Oh. _Oh_. His scent was off.

Tony Stark was in rut. In this elevator. With you.

A blush darkened your cheeks as a spark of arousal coursed through you.

You had put Tony Stark, infamous playboy, in rut. Just like that.

He was muttering under his breath, and you frowned. You needed to put a stop to this.

“Tony, please stop.” Your voice was wheedling, a bit higher pitched than normal. Full Omega.

He stopped immediately, stepping over to you and dropping to his knees in front of you.

“You alright?” he asked for the second time that day, this time brushing your hair from your face. An unconscious and caring gesture.

“Tony I-“

“You’re driving me crazy.” A noise escapes his throat, not unlike a moan. “I don’t know if I can last an hour in here with you, you smell so damn good.”

Oh this was so perfect you could die.

“Tony, I know for a fact you have been around many Omegas in heat, most of them better looking and more successful than me. I think you’ll make it an hour.” He gave you the most surprised look you had ever seen.

“None of them are _you_ , though.” You stared at him, something building in your chest that you didn’t want to name just yet.

“What does that mean, Tony?”

“It means that I love you, that I want to be with you even though you smell like a field. I love that smell. I have never met anyone like you.” Oh he was rambling again. Where was smooth talking Stark? “Damn, I’d give anything for you to be interested in me.” You kissed him, hard, rolling onto him and straddling him.

“Shut up” You breathed against his lips before kissing him again. His experienced hands found your hips easily, rocking against your body in need. You moaned against his mouth, pulling away.

“You know I love you too, I think.” You smile, pressing your forehead against his. “Even if you are an asshole.”

“I’m your asshole, now.”

“If you break up with me by text message, I will kill you, Tony Stark.”

“Why would I ever want to give you up, babe.” There was smooth talker Stark. He kissed you this time, nipping at your bottom lip playfully. You pulled up your skirt, rolling your eyes at his glee.

“You’re going to fuck me in this elevator, Tony.” You told him as his glee transformed into euphoria, he had his pants unbuttoned so quickly you wondered if this had all been a ploy to get you naked. You tugged down your underwear, tossing it into a corner.

He was ready and at attention, even as you felt yourself soaked.

“I’m going to fuck you in this elevator, then I’m going to take you to my room and make love to you…again…and again…and again.” His breath was hot against your ear as he crawled in between your thighs, sliding into you easily. You grasped at his shirt, a cry leaving your throat. Tony Stark was good at this. Not that you were surprised. “I’m going to give you this knot, till you scream my name, baby. You won’t be living my bed for a few days.” You were panting as he kissed your neck, your fingers sliding into his dark hair, tugging as he increased his pace.

“Oh..F-fuck Tony, yes, please.” You managed to reply. “And I’m going to make you my mate, and you won’t ever have to worry about my love life starting an international incident ever again.” You kissed him on the mouth, his promises being just enough to have you feeling weak.

If he meant that…

Yes, you hoped he did.

You had cum before his hand had even sought your clit, your body hypersensitive. You moaned his name as he pushed forward, your legs locking around his waist. Yes, yes, yes. Your inner mantra was becoming an outer mantra as you went about all but chanting his name, crying out as his thickening knot caught that spot inside of you that made you shiver.

“T-Tony, Oh my- If…If I had known, I would have taken you up on that date offer a lot sooner.” He chuckled at your declaration, your body tensing around him a second time, dragging him into orgasm with you.

It was euphoric.

He hadn’t bit you that time, but he had promised…later.

You found that the smile on your face seemed to be sticking, even as his panting form leaned over you, kissing your forehead.

“It shouldn’t be too much longer now.”

“I hope not.” You replied truthfully, allowing him to pull you close to his warm body, even as you two were both still connected.

“I wasn’t joking; I’m taking you to bed when we get out.”

“You better, Tony Stark.”

He kissed you again.

“Or I’ll kill you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For MMKMads, hope you like!


	23. Somethings don't Change (Omega!Steve Sequel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The coldest Russian winter hadn't frozen your heart. 
> 
> Prompt: Could I maybe request a sequel to this?? I kind of wanna know what happened to her during all this time. That or it'd be interesting to see them try to figure out why she hasn't aged.

You sighed, twirling your hair idly with your finger, a nervous gesture you had picked up as a child all those years ago. He was watching you, Steve was, his big blue eyes trailing their gaze to your hand, then back up to your face. He was looking at you with such love you felt your heart would bust.

“You don’t have to talk about it tonight, doll.” He murmured, drawing you down to him. You knew you didn’t have to talk about it tonight, you knew if you never talked about it he’d be okay, he’d love you just the same. He’d pull you close and kiss you on the mouth, and you’d be enveloped in the scent of fresh cookies and nutmeg, and he’d love you. You’d love him. Everything would feel normal in this strange and busy world you both lived in.

But you couldn’t keep putting it off.

It was strange, you thought, that you would have a hard time saying something that you lived, over and over.

How you got to this point.

You rested your head against his broad chest, so different from all those nights he would curl his slender frame against your own, and you heard his heart beat, something that managed to stay the same.

“Its fine, better now than never.” You enterwined your fingers with his, sighing against his skin. Your memories captured you, like always.

______

_You were waiting, it seemed like you were always waiting. You smoothed down your hair as the mailman approached, as he gave you that same look he always gave, pity._

_You were a number, a statistic, just another gal whose soldier had left for war and never wrote back._

_When you sat closed the door you could feel the tears welling in your eyes._

_You were supposed to be **strong**! You were supposed to protect him, protect your omega, what kind of alpha were you? You let him leave, you let him leave, and now he was gone._

_God he couldn’t be gone?_

_You were sobbing, deep gasps, when you finally collected yourself you rose to your feet._

_You’d help any way you could._

_Your mother had been a nurse during the Great War. You could do the same couldn’t you?_

_______

_It was odd, seeing him there, in those posters, bright and colorful, even as you completed your training._

_Your boy, your sweet Stevie, a whole new person._

_Yet…He had never written you, never once._

_You stood on European soil now, a sort of bitterness snaking its way into your heart._

_In what world could you have imagined him leaving you like this._

_Yet, yet, you just wanted him to be safe, so happy he was alive. So so happy._

________

You were crying, you realized, rubbing your eyes as your voice broke. You could see the pain in Steve’s eyes, he had pull you up, choosing to sit for the duration of your story, and he was holding you in his lap, his grip tighter than was comfortable.

You had let that thought slide to the back of your mind for years. Tried not to think about how the man you loved could so easily abandon you. That was what made it so hard to go to him, after he had been dug out of the ice.

You were so afraid he wouldn’t want you anymore.

“Why didn’t you ever write me, Stevie?” You ask, finally, allowing those years of hurt to surface. He was looking at you, guilt burned into his beautiful face. “I…I waited. I waited for those letters every day for months.”

“I-I wasn’t sure what to say.” He managed, brushing back your hair and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I promise, I thought, I thought it was better that way. I thought if I left it, you could move on, find someone to settle down with. Someone who wasn’t me.”

“How could you think I would ever want anyone but you?”

“I knew I was going to die.” He said simply. “From the moment I was able to enlist, I knew I was going to die in the war. I didn’t know how to tell you. How do you tell your best girl that you don’t plan on coming back to her? I was…I was a coward. I was selfish. “

“You were afraid.” You breathed kissing him softly. “I never stopped loving you Stevie, even when you didn’t write.” He was crying now too, you realized, clutching his body to your own. You shushed him softly, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“It’s alright, Stevie, shhh, my omega, I’m here and we are fine.” You cooed as he relaxed a soft whimper leaving his lips.

He was still your Steve, and you were grateful.

________

_It was cold. It was so cold. It was winter and a war was going on. You shuddered, tugging your issued wool cloak tighter around you. You wished…_

_You wished you were home._

_You wished you were home with Stevie, you could almost see him sitting on your couch, sketching in his book._

_You were in a remote town, somewhere on the Russian Front. Everything was so quiet._

_The snow fell softly around you, a desolate wasteland of your fears and wants._

_Then a noise, something just behind you._

_You turned, seeing nothing, you followed after the sound, scenting the air, you couldn’t pick up anything…and yet…_

_You felt the blow to the back of your head like a knife. The last thing you remembered was the white sky, the white ground, and your red red blood splattered on the ground._

_You woke up strapped to a bed, several other women in similar predicaments around you. You recognized one as a nurse who had gone missing on the front last week._

_Everyone assumed that she was just another female casualty._

_Was that what you were now, a casualty?_

_________

“Your file said you were missing in action, your body never recovered.”

“Well they weren’t lying.” You offered back, tugging your shirt aside in order to reveal a circular scar on your shoulder. “This is when I got this.” His nimble, artist’s fingers ran over your mark.

“Are you okay to keep going, doll?”

“Yeah, I have to finish, it’s time for this to be done.” You had to go back.

_______

_The tests were the most painful thing you had ever experienced._

_It didn’t take you long to learn that you were being given drugs the Russians had raided from their German counterparts. They were testing them out on Allied women, trying to start a program._

_Sleeper cells. Genetically modified soldiers, like Steve you reasoned, to be placed all over the world, to be under Soviet command._

_The only problem; most of the women died. Only you and one other made it out of those months of experiments, only the two of you had survived the machine that dug into the flesh of your shoulders, injecting you with some teal poison, something that claimed the lives of most of those young women._

_Sometimes you asked yourself why you lived, why fate was so cruel._

_All of the women that had been brought in were Alphas. Something rare enough for them to have a hard time finding. A hard time killing._

_Then the day came, your first mission._

_You had turned to your friend, the other survivor, an Irish woman named Deirdre and shared a nod, and you murdered all those men, every one._

_You had dispersed._

_Months, MONTHS, you had spent, gone._

_The war was over._

_Steve was dead._

_You were a monster, a monster living in your normal skin._

_Your alpha tendencies were off the charts, you had to isolate yourself at times, and you realized something else, in your new home of Dublin, you weren’t aging. You could heal at amazing speed, as determined by when you attempted to kill yourself._

_You spent years getting a handle on yourself, years accumulating pain. Wandering from city to city, nation to nation, searching to fill an emptiness that would never leave you._

_You were destined to stay alive, but for what._

_You wandered for years, perennially trapped in your young body. You did many things, you taught, you served, you were a nurse, so many times over._

_You watched the world change before your eyes._

_All leading up to that day, that day when they discovered him, and you saw it on the news._

_The day your bond mark, untouched after all these years, ached._

_And you found yourself at Shield’s door._

_Found yourself in his arms._

_________

Steve let out a breath as you finished, laying you back onto the pillows as you yawned.

“I didn’t want to tell you.”

“I understand.”

“I’m sorry, Steve.”

“No, I’m sorry. I should have protected you.”

“I should have protected _you_ Stevie.”

“Well, you can now, doll.” He lies beside you, pulling your body to his own, curling up under the blankets. You feel safe, you feel loved.

You loved him so much.

“What does this make us?”

“Two geriatrics who will live forever trapped in the bodies of hot twentysomethings.” Steve interjects, making you snort with laughter.

“I love you Steven Grant Rogers.”

“I love you too.”

“I won’t let you get away so easily this time.” You nuzzle your bite on his neck, newly marked and still fresh. “I can hunt you for years, Omega.” He flushes at the thought and implication.

“Alpha.” His voice was a whine.

You rolled on top of him, a smirk on your face.

Something never changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Shinoko. Hope you enjoy!


	24. Shut up (Omega!Natasha)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It hurt to look at her and know you couldn't have her. 
> 
> Prompt:Soulmate a/b/o with alpha female reader and chemically suppressed omega Natasha? I just love the idea of big strong Natasha secretly being an omega and trying very hard to deny that she wants the reader as her alpha.

You sighed, staring down at the Hydra agent with a mix of pity and disgust.

Never saw it coming.

You turned to your favorite beta, Natasha, as she dusted her suit off.

“All clear?” You asked, running your hand through your hair. She nodded.

“Clint and Stark cleared out the western side, and Rogers freed the hostages.” Her raspy voice replied. You smiled softly, placing your hand on her arm.

“I think we make a pretty killer team.” Natasha managed a chuckle at your words.

“Girl power.” You snorted at her dry response.

Natasha, beautiful and deadly Natasha. You sighed softly to yourself, tapping your foot against the ground in thought. Beautiful Natasha that never so much as glanced your way.

It drove you crazy, and you knew it wasn’t you. You knew it was your status.

A female Alpha. An alpha period.

You and Natasha had shared one heated kiss exactly 28 days ago, you had just gotten back from a mission and you were pretty banged up, at one point you had lost contact with the team.

You had made it out alive by the skin of your teeth.

That night, after several hours in the infirmary she had met you in the hallway, and kissed you like you had never been kissed before.

You had stood there, wide-eyed and aroused, as she broke the kiss and walked away. Slipping out of sight before you could even catch her.

It wasn’t because you were a girl, you were both open about your bisexuality, and surely it wasn’t because of the job.

No it was because you were an Alpha. She was a beta, well you had never asked, but she sure as hell didn’t smell like an omega. Betas were most likely to pair with other betas, because it was unspoken that the only thing that could make an Alpha or omega happy was their opposite.

You sighed.

She made you happy, she made your heart beat fast and your face flush. You had it bad.

But could you make her happy?

________

Natasha was red, feverish, you placed a hand on her face.

“Nat, you are burning up.” You whispered to her. She was panting, flushed, leaning against you. “Nat. Natasha, are you okay?” She collapsed onto you, you cursed under your breath.

“Barton!” You shouted over your headset. “Barton, Anyone, Natasha is down. I repeat, we have an agent down, we need to be picked up.” Your tone was frantic as you lowered Natasha to the ground

“Nat?” You heard Clint’s voice over the comm.

“Yeah she…she’s feverish, I dunno, she just passed out. Please, get someone over here.”

“Its alright, we have someone coming. You two will be fine. Just hold tight.”

And you waited, till the helicopter picked you both up, till you were sitting in the infirmary, staring wide eyed at Bruce.

“Suppressants?” Your voice had gone up an octave, “W-What do you mean, I thought she was a b-“

“A beta, yes, that was her intention. She has been on suppressants since she was a teen if I remember correctly. Only I know, and that is just because I’m here to make sure she stays healthy.”

Natasha was an omega, she was an omega and hadn’t told anyone.

“Well what happened?”

“Suppressants are a tricky thing; I never recommend them but she insisted. “

“Is she going to be okay?”

“She’ll be fine. She’s detoxing from all those years of chemicals.”

__________

It was strange how faint it was at first, her scent.

Bruce had her in a medically induced coma, for her benefit, she was supposed to come out of it later today, in the meantime her scent had only gotten stronger, something so singularly Natasha it made you want to cry. It fit so well, it seemed so right. She was your soulmate, you knew in that moment.

She was throwing your body out of sync. Your Alpha senses begging you to help the injured Omega, your omega, to sooth the pain so present in her, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t.

Something patted your hand and your eyes shot open.

“Natasha” You breathed, looking at the redhead. “Natasha you’re awake.”

“And I feel like shit” She groaned. “What happened.”

“Well…” You trailed off. “Bruce says it was the suppressants.” Natasha’s eyes open.

“He took me off.”

“He had to Nat, they were screwing with your body chemistry.” Your voice was trembling.

“No, no he didn’t, he’s been looking for an excuse this whole time that-“

“Your fever was in the 100s, Nat.” Your voice broke. “You seized up at one point, you passed out during the mission, I was so scared.” You had her hand in yours, and you felt miserable. Some Alpha you were.

“I’m fine.” Her voice was soft. She pressed a hand to your cheek. “Alpha I’m fine.” Your body stiffened.

“Natasha…why didn’t you tell me?” Your tone was firm, if she was going to try to manipulate you, you could do it right back.

“I didn’t have to tell you anything.”

“A month ago you kissed me, on the mouth.” You began. “Then proceeded to act like it never happened. You brushed off all my attempts to talk about it, and made me feel I had done something wrong.”

“I did not.” She interjected.

“Yes you did, even though…you knew…you know how I feel about you Natasha, and you knew, you knew I was your soulmate” She flinched at your words. Your voice was a whisper. “And I thought…I thought it was because you were a beta, but this…this is so much worse.”

“Don’t do this.” She continued, placing her hand on your shoulder.

“Natasha, if I was just some sort of experiment, just some way for you to prove your control over your Omega tendencies, I…I want to know.” Natasha’s grip on your shoulder tightens.

“You have it all wrong.”

“Do I, Nat?” Your tone was more bitter than you’d hoped. Bitter enough not to notice her moving closer to you, bitter enough to not to notice her lips until they were pressed to your own.

She sighed as you wrapped your arms around her neck, pressing your lips harder against her own.

When you pulled aware she grabbed your hands.

“You just don’t get it. I love you, I love you and it is unbearable, because I am broken. I don’t know how to be an omega, all my life…” she trails off, but only briefly. “All my life I was taught it was weakness, taught to repress it. Then I come here, then I meet you, and I understand, I understand what I could have and I hate it, because I can’t. I knew from the moment I saw you that you were my soulmate but people like me...we don't have those.”

“Why not, Nat? I love you too.” You moved onto the bed. “I get it, our job is dangerous, but there isn’t any reason we can’t…at least try this out. Neither of us had normal childhoods, we’re avengers for goodness sake, but I don’t know if I can go every day seeing you and knowing we could be something. We're supposed to be together a-” You stop abruptly, her lips interrupting you again.

“I want you, I do, we can try. Just…shut up.”

And you did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Malarkey/LieutenantOmega hope you like it!


	25. Late Night Confessions (Alpha!Steve)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jealousy looked good on the Captain.
> 
> Prompt: I've really been loving this series this far and I was wondering if you could do an A/B/O where the reader is an Omega and has tendency to use Alphas just during heat but Steve didn't know. So when he spies some guy just leaving at like the crack of dawn, he immediately goes to question her and confessions soon arise!

Sometimes being an Omega was hard. Most of the time, you could make it through, hell you were an Avenger, very few things really bothered you.

Heat though, heat bothered you.

But you weren’t some suppressant packed angst machine either, heats were a part of life. A part of life every omega on this planet had to put up with.

So you put up with them.

You groaned as a cramp tore through your stomach, put up with them indeed.

You felt pretty guilty for dodging out on your plans for the night, you and Steve were supposed to watch movies in the common room. However, given your present circumstances you doubted you would have been good company.

The thought of the very attractive Alpha super soldier was enough to make a soft whine leave your lips.

“Jarvis, heat protocol please.” You managed to call out, immediately relieved by the helpful temperature drop.

The heat protocol kept you cool and people in the tower from knowing about your little…predicament.

People like Steve, you swore you’d die from embarrassment if he ever caught you like this…you’d die or you’d jump him.

It was hardly a secret, everyone seemed to know but him, that you harbored some pretty intense feelings for him.

Feelings you could not have him finding out, you were unwilling to jeopardize your friendship because you happened to be an omega and he happened to be an Alpha.

Not to mention the fact that there was almost no way he had feelings for you. It was pretty clear his eyes were on Sharon Carter. Or at least clear that her eyes were on him.

You sighed, a soft overemotional sound, thinking about the two of them right now made you want to curl up in a ball and cry.

You would not do that.

No, no you were big girl who could handle adult problems like this.

You pulled out your cellphone, dialing a very familiar number.

Yes, you knew exactly what you needed to do.

Well…who you needed to do, at least

_____________

It was 1 a.m. and you were only getting more miserable.

A text on your phone, yes! You let out a happy noise. Relief finally.

“Jarvis, Status of the tower?”

“The tower is empty besides Captain Rogers and Miss Romanoff.”

“Their whereabouts?”

“Both in their rooms, no activity for at least two hours.” Thank goodness.

“Alright Jarvis, let him in, as per the rules.”

You straightened yourself out on the cushion of your bed.

Time to get this heat under control.

______________

It wasn’t often that Steve was kept up by racing thoughts. His previous life, poor in the depression, and military career making it possible for him to at least sleep lightly in most situations where sleep was called for.

However, tonight something was off.

That something was you. When you had cancelled this afternoon it had bothered him more than he cared to admit. He hated to make it the cliché “Alpha is attracted to only Omega in the friend group” situation, but it was true. He wanted to be with you, and not just because of your presentation. He loved the way your eyes lit up when you were teaching him something, or the way you sometimes bit your lip when in deep thought. That was what kept him up on this night in particular.

He had walked by your room, in hindsight a bad idea, and had almost lost his composure right then. Your smell all but intoxicating him.

Heat.

A noise, something perked at his ears, a door opening and shutting. Another scent. _Rival Alpha._ Steve bolted out of bed, turning at the hallway, stopping just in time to see the unidentified man exit, still reeking of you.

He felt like he had been punched in the gut. He knew it was foolish, archaic even, and made worse by the fact that he had feelings for you. He was the Alpha of this house, and for you to invite another in showed disrespect in his leadership skills…shows you didn’t respect his…prowess.

More than that, the idea of you having feelings for that man. It overwhelmed him.

The clock struck 5 a.m. as he crossed the space to your door. Knocking with a fury he couldn’t contain.

You opened it, eyes widening at the very bristling Alpha.

“Fuck.”

__________

Oh no. Oh no. Shit. Shit. Fuck.

Your mind whirled a mile a minute staring at Steve Rogers in front of you. It didn’t take much for you to realize he was pissed. He was all but saying it with his body language. You cowered, no longer suffering because of your heat, at least for the moment. You understood immediately. As an Alpha who knew what Steve could be thinking. Getting caught, something you had tried hard to avoid, basically sank your Steve Ship.

He was your favorite ship, too.

“So you abandoned movie night to hook up with some stranger?” He spat, his aggression catching you off guard.

“Excuse me?” You shot back. “Certainly not a stranger. I cancelled because of my heat, Steve.”

“So you think that gives you the right to bring some foreign Alpha into the tower.”

“This has been my arrangement since I’ve been here Steve, and I’ll have you know he isn’t a stranger.”

“Your…Your paramour then! Either way. I’m the Alpha here, and you can’t just-“

“It isn’t 1940 anymore, Steve.” You interrupted. “He’s an old friend. We have an arrangement. This is the modern world, it is _modern_.”

“I-I’m the Alpha.” He all but stuttered

“What, so you wanted me to ask you?”

“ _Yes_!” Steve’s voice is clear and hurt. His blue eyes filled with an emotion you’d call jealousy. “Yes. I wanted you to ask me. Of course, how could I not? Its not hard to figure out that I like you, doll!”

Well talk about being speechless.

You stared at him and just as you saw him falter you pulled him into a kiss.

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

“I’ll ask you. Steven Grant Rogers, be my Alpha?”

Just like that everything changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For MarinetteDarcy hope you like it!


	26. Slowing Down (Pietro)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things were just better done slow.
> 
> Prompt: I would love soul mates with speedster reader? And them being paired up together to do a mission literally as fast as possible and just competing who can do things faster until a kiss happens and 'Yeah okay there are some things worth doing slow'

“You have to hold still.” The voice of your very frustrated friend, Wanda, cut through your fidgeting. She was braiding your hair, upon your own request, so that it wouldn’t get in the way during your mission.

“But Wanda” you sigh dramatically. “I am like a humming bird, if I stop moving I’ll die.” You weren’t entirely sure if that was an actual fact, but it was worth the shot.

“A..what? A humming…bird?” Wanda asks, furrowing her brows. “You Americans need help with naming animals.” You grin in response.

“Says the person whose word for raccoon literally means ‘little bear washer’”

“Well, it is a small bear, and it washes its food. A humming bird is not a bird that hums. I know this bird. It does not hum, it buzzes.”

You let out a giggle.

“Well a buzzing-bird doesn’t sound as good does it?” You lean your head closer to her hands, relishing the feeling of someone touching your hair. You liked to think of Wanda as a sister, a best friend, and bonding moments like these were common between the two of you.

Unsurprising considering the relationship between you and her brother.

Your soulmate.

Pietro. You smiled softly to yourself as Wanda shoved your shoulder.

“Don’t be so dreamy about my brother, he is not so great.” You laughed as a gust of wind blew by.

“I think I am pretty great actually.” The soft accent of your boyfriend made your smile widen.

“I think you’re both great.”

“You have to pick one.” That was Pietro, your favorite brat.

“She thinks you are a brat, she would pick me.” Wanda, finishing your braid. “And she is done, so you two can leave.” You stood, shaking the still out of your bones, hugging Wanda you turned to her brother.

“Race ya” You zapped off, knowing you’d beat him.

_________

It was strange, finding someone as fast as you were. An anomaly like you, simultaneously making you feel more bizarre and at home. You couldn’t deny it. From the moment you met him, the moment you felt that sharp pain on your shoulder, the words that had graced your body, in a language you didn’t understand, glowing with an unknown ache. You had known he was yours, for you. A creature made of your same stardust.

Even if he was all over the place.

You had been frightened then, standing there, as he and his sister brought you down. What would the Avengers do with the new enhanced humans? But the fright had calmed almost immediately when you made eye contact with the frosty haired man. Your eyes had widened, your heartbeat, normally so fast, seemed to slow. Time seemed to slow. Everything at a snail’s pace as you reached for him.

He was yours.

Speaking of, you felt a pair of arms hoist you into the air, slinging you over a strong shoulder.

“Pietro!” You yelped, flailing your body around. “What are you doing?”

“You were standing still, I figured I would give you a…pick me up?” You groaned.

“That doesn’t mean you actually pick me up, Pietro.”

“Ah, yes, I know, but I wanted to anyway.” He sat you down in the safety of the jet and you snuggled against him. Hopefully this mission would be as fast as the two of you.

“I think I could finish this mission faster than you.” You casually taunt, threading your fingers through his.

“That’s not true.” He smirks a response. “I’m the fastest there is.”

“Wanna bet?”

When the plane landed you were both grinning like children.

____________

You laughed, stopping at Pietro’s side. “That hall is all cleared out.”

“Well I did the last two.”

“I got the data from the computer.”

“I rescued you from those dirty hydra agents.”

“I beat you to the top of the buil-“ Before you could finished Pietro pressed his lips to yours, soft, quick, just a moment. Not enough. As he pulled away you reached out, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer, your lips meeting his again, this time slower. A soft, loving kiss that made you feel like you could burst.

“That is better slow.” Pietro murmurs softly against your ear.

“Yeah okay there are some things worth doing slow”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Malarkey/LieutenantOmega 
> 
> Sorry for the absence guys. I'm prepping for the LSAT/My senior semester of undergrad, and it has me hella busy.


	27. What is in a name? (Alpha! Tony Stark sequel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The little stick told you one thing and your brain screamed another.

You groaned, pressing your face against the cool tile of the bathroom wall. Fucking hell. This was bad. This was very very bad. You sighed, dragging your body up and flushing the vomit down the toilet.

You were, as your grandmother would have put it, in the family way.

You stood, staring in the mirror, noting the deep circles under your eyes and the sickly pallor on your cheeks.

You wouldn’t be able to hide it much longer, your scent would give it away.

The only question was how to tell the father of your baby, perhaps babies even. It was a huge question. A huge terrifying question.

How to tell infamous billionaire playboy Anthony Stark that he was going to be a father?

Questions.

You loved him, you had very little doubts that he loved you in return, but Iron man? With kids? Would he be up for that?

Not to mention your unmated status.

That still stung, a lot.

You ‘understood’ it in theory. Tony wanted something that was his, something that the media couldn’t be a part of, and the disappearance of Tony from the scene would cause a ruckus. Especially with you, who were you anyway? Just some glorified secretary in charge of cleaning up after him.

You sighed.

Just the other day you had read an article about the new ‘mystery woman’ That millionaire philanthropist playboy Mr. Stark must be with considering his sudden lack of arm candy.

Names were thrown around, all of them beautiful, none of them you. Of course.

If anything you were out less than you had been before, Stark all but banning you from public events.

Something you were none too pleased about.

The thought that he was ashamed or embarrassed of you filtered through your head more than once a day and was driving you crazy.

The pregnancy hormones weren’t helping.

A pregnant omega needed reassurance, needed a mate, needed to know that they were wanted and loved.

You didn’t have near enough of those boxes checked.

You pressed the powder from your makeup compact on your face, hoping to bring your usual color back onto your cheeks. Trying to salvage your rapidly devolving life.

You were could to tell Tony Stark, yes you were, and you’d pick up the pieces as they fell.

Your hands moved protectively to your stomach, nothing there yet, only you knew, well you and that discarded test in your bathroom garbage can.

Whatever dwelled inside of you, you knew you would love with everything you had. You could only hope he’d feel the same.

He’d be a great father.

__________

Tony was gone for three weeks. Sending you into a panic. You had to tell him face to face. You couldn’t just shoot him a ‘hey we’re pregnant text’ you also couldn’t come into work.

Your scent was obviously changing. Something you cursed with every fiber of your being.

You didn’t have to come into work though.

That was something you could swing, so long as he wasn’t there.

You paced your living room floor. He had come back, well was supposed to come back.

Confronted with no other option you had opted for the more ballsy move, cashing in your sick time conveniently on the day he planned on coming back.

That was three months, yes, counted and cashed, three whole months. Nothing like that type of action to send a cold sweat down your boyfriend’s back.

An involuntary whimper left your throat as you moved your pacing to your bedroom, wrapping yourself in the blanket pile that you had unknowingly been collecting the last few weeks.

This was stressful. Stress was bad for your pups. You needed to protect your pups.

You shook your head.

This was getting out of control.

You hadn’t necessarily ever given the thought of a family much debate. It was one of those ‘if it happens it happens’ sort of situations, you hadn’t been prepared for the sudden raging hormone extravaganza your body was dragging you through.

A sniffle left your throat as you burrowed further.

Well shit.

________

A twenty-four-hour period had almost gone by when you were awoken by the sharp ring of your cellphone.

You answered without thinking, your voice thick with sleep.

“Hello?” you all but groaned, trapped in your blanket prison.

“I’ve considered the possibilities, and unless you’ve suddenly developed leprosy or tuberculosis there is no reason for you to use all three months of your sick leave at once.” The sharp, suddenly grating voice of Tony Stark make you wince.

“I’m not prepared for your barrage of words this morning, Stark.” You muffled a reply back, eyes shutting to shield out the light of the dawn. “It’s like six in the am, why are you calling me this early on my day off?”

“I was just giving you a warning.”

“A warning?”

“I figured you might want to put on some clothes, since I’m about five minutes from your apartment, or hey, scratch that, don’t, It’s been a few weeks and I miss that smell of yours.” The phone went dead.

He couldn’t even manage to admit that he missed you. You laughed to yourself. You loved that ridiculous man.

You crawled your way out of your blanket jail, adopted some leggings and an oversized sweater, and pulled a blanket from your bedroom to the living room. Unlocking the door, you moved to settle yourself on the couch, curling under the warmth and protection of the thick blanket and trying to remove the strand of fear from your heart.

Better now than never.

You barely had time to get comfortable before he burst through your door, all anxious energy and suspicion. You winced, instinctively curling against yourself.

“Tony.” You whined. “That is a perfectly good door you just tried to break.”

He paused in front of you, whatever tirade he had planned forgotten after taking a good look at you. Your deep under-eye circles, your very telling position curled up on the couch, he scented the air cautiously, his eyes widening and narrowing as he stepped over to you.

You struggled to keep a straight face as he loomed over you, his expression unreadable. Did you need to laugh or cry? You weren’t sure yet, but both were there, just under your skin.

You shivered softly as his hand found your neck, tilting your head to the side as he leaned over you, scenting you more fully.

This was it then.

Your body was rigid.

His arms encircled you as he took a seat next to you, pulling you into his lap.

“You know, you didn’t need to get pregnant to access those sick days, right?” His voice was his usual combination of adoration and sarcasm and your body relaxed immediately.

“Tony.” You cooed, snuggling against him. “I felt like it was the easiest way to get all the off days AND keep my job.” He snorted, but you were still ill at ease. He wouldn’t meet your eyes.

“Tony-“You began again, apology in your tone. “I wanted to tell you before but you were gone and I didn’t want you to freak. I…I’m sorry. “There, it was out. “I knew taking off the days would be the easiest way to get your attention especially since I figure I won’t be going back to work-“

“Why not.” His breath is hot on your neck, as his hands find your stomach, a light roundness there that hadn’t been present a month before. “I didn’t think pregnancy could stop the greatest press writer in New York.” It was your turn to snort.

“Well, I figured…” You trailed off. “I figured you wouldn’t want anyone else to know. “Oh, that could have had a better delivery, your voice had squeaked with uncontrolled emotion at the end, giving away your sensitivity.

You felt Stark’s body stiffen, and you yourself followed suit, preparing for whatever he was about to say.

“What, do you think I’m such a negligent person that I wouldn’t want people to know that I was going to be a father?” Oh you had hit a nerve. “Or what, that I’m just going to waltz out of this child’s life? Is that it?” You found yourself off of his lap and half cowering on the edge of the sofa.

“No, No Tony.” You blustered, grasping for damage control. “I know you’d want a role in this child’s life, but I’m just your secretary.” You were trying hard to keep your voice even, gripping at the sofa for dear life. “I’m your secretary that you’ve banned from public events and that you have all but refused to mark as your mate so forgive me for jumping to the conclusion that you wouldn’t want our relationship to continue!” You allowed your voice to shoot up an octave before huffing and crossing your arms, shielding yourself from him. “I read the tabloids. I know I can’t measure up, Stark, I never pretended I could but pups, that…that changes things. I can’t work for you, people would put two and two together and the next thing you know what you’ve tried so hard to hide will be out in the open. I can almost see the article. ‘Billionaire Playboy Tony Stark knocks up Average Press Secretary.’ –“ He kissed you, cutting you off mid speech. He kissed you again and again and again.

“You’re” a kiss “Absolutely.” Kiss “ridiculous.” Kiss. He continued to speak, his hands brushing unshed tears from your eyes. “I’m not going to leave you just because I knocked you up. That isn’t what this is to me. That isn’t who you are to me.” You stared at him as he kept talking. “I love you, and I love the idea of you carrying my pups.” His hand pressed against your stomach thoughtfully. “And I knew, I knew I had been irresponsible…a few time. I knew this could happen.” He nodded. “I can’t say I wasn’t acting with self-interest, what better way to catch the girl of your dreams than get her pregnant.” You swatted at him, a soft giggle leaving your throat. “I want you at work, I want you to move in with me.” He was talking quickly now, plans tumbling out. “I want to show you off, I want everyone to know. I thought you didn’t want them to.” You blinked.

“What?”

“You care so much about your career, and damn if you aren’t good at it, being with me would ruin that for you.” He was right. Months of fear melted off of you, he was right.

“I’d gladly ruin my career for you, Anthony Stark.” He smirked at your response, kissing you softly.

“I’d gladly ruin my career for you too?”

“which one?”

“The playboy one.” He kissed your neck softly, a sigh leaving your throat in response.

“Bite me.” You snarked in response, a double entendre, offering yourself up to him.

And he obliged, gladly.

When word hit the press that Tony Stark was now a billionaire, philanthropist, engaged father-to-be you could, with much satisfaction, say that you broke the news yourself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First week of my last semester of undergrad finished. Hope you enjoy this whatever it is.~

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to comment any request/prompt/ etc for me to use, I love to know that you like what I am writing, and what you would like me to write!
> 
> I usually can put out one story a day, sometimes two if I am really doing well.
> 
> Current projects in- the-works in the order they will be posted:  
> >  
> \- Alpha! Steve (Request)  
> -Omega!Steve/Reader/Omega!Bucky (request)  
> -Natasha/F!Reader (request)  
> -Bucky Barnes (request)  
> -Evil!T'Challa (Request)  
> \- Alpha!Bucky sequel (request)  
> -Modern!Alpha!Preserum!Steve (request)  
> -Tony Stark (request)  
> -Evil! Steve Rogers (Request)  
> -8/8/2016 Update: Requests are CLOSED for the time being, until I can do all the ones I have requested for me. I hate to do it, I hate having them closed, but I will get lost in the request pile and not be able to catch up the way it is going. 
> 
> 9 is my max capacity, apparently.
> 
> Hopefully they will be reopened sooner than later.


End file.
